#Genevieve is missing her jewelry though :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dylanwritesgood · 2 years

Text

Ghost of You | 5

masterlist | ko-fi | ask

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

Summary: Eddie was so full of life, so full of fire, Gareth thought he was invincible—until he wasn't. After the accident, Gareth can't let go. He's determined to talk to him one last time. The universe has other ideas though.

Rating: Mature (no sex, just a lot of death and heavy themes)

WC: 1,388

Warnings: Death, nonexplicit missing person/sexual assault/murder, grief, the occult

A/N: Wrapping up Heather's story here, so it's still a little rough. And don't even ask me about how tarot works in this fic (I mean, do ask me more if you want to know in real life, but don't look for sense here). I'm working with a combination of "ghosts know what the cards mean" and "ghosts are choosing based on the picture" so like, don't look too close. lol As always, message me for a TL;DR if you think you should sit a chapter out, okay?

It’s been a harrowing few days as investigators from out of state descend on the clearing and set up camp in the Hawkins PD’s small station while Heather’s bones are carefully exhumed and preserved as evidence. She’s been positively identified by the necklace she’d been buried in. There isn’t enough of her left to corroborate the tale Gareth had told Hopper, but at least her family knew now that she is gone.

And Gareth’s aunt and uncle confirm that not only was he at their home in Ohio the entire month, but he’d been dragged into helping at a carnival their church had put on the day Heather went missing—so he is solidly dismissed as a suspect. He and Hopper had decided on the way back to the station that the official story was that Gareth was on a walk when he came across some partially covered remains and reported it. Nothing terribly inexplicable about that.

Heather hasn’t left him yet—he isn’t super sure how it works, but he’d have thought that she’d have passed over or done whatever it was that happened when spirits tied up their loose ends. Maybe she’s waiting to be buried, or for them to catch the guy who did it. But she’s reflected in the glass over his left shoulder as Gareth stands outside a nondescript storefront and considers the small sign on the door— Madame Genevieve, Clairvoyant. Tarot, Aura Readings, Palmistry, Spiritual Communication. Walk-ins Welcome.

He’d driven almost all the way across the county to get here—which was nerve-wracking because Gareth’s had his license for just a few months and it had always been Eddie who drove when they went out of town—but Madame Genevieve was the only psychic he could find in the phone book. He has to admit, he was expecting a little bit more… mysticism. He locks eyes with Heather in the reflection and she shrugs at him. Fuck it, it’s worth a try.

The silver-haired woman reading a paperback romance novel in one of the waiting area seats doesn’t look up at the bell clattering as the door closes behind Gareth. He thinks she might be another customer, and shoves his hands in his pockets to wait for someone to come.

“You don’t need my services. I’ll take your money, kid, but you don’t need me.”

Gareth startles and looks down at the woman, still curled in her chair and flipping a page of her book. She’s not at all what he was expecting. Her jewelry is delicate and understated, she’s wearing jeans and a cozy cardigan, thick glasses perching precariously on her thin nose. She doesn’t exactly conjure the image of a medium, but it’s oddly comforting.

“If you know that, then you’re probably the person I’m looking for,” he counters.

The corner of her mouth quirks in a subtle smile as she finishes her page and marks her place. Madame Genevieve sets down her novel and regards him owlishly through her glasses. After a moment of studying him, she nods once.

“Well then, great little one, what can I do for you?”

Gareth’s brow furrows at her choice of words, but he shrugs it off. Gareth the Great had been Eddie’s nickname for him, but it doesn’t matter now.

“I need to know why something is happening.”

She uncurls from her seat and gets to her feet, making a slow circle around him as she assesses him.

“Does it have to do with the wet girl?” She asks him, still somewhere behind him. Then she seems to be addressing someone else, “Oh, hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Sort of,” Gareth answers, standing still under her curious gaze, “That’s Barb, by the way. She drowned. I go to school with her best friend. And Heather. We went to school together.”

By the time she’s finished her circuit of Gareth, her expression has shifted to confusion, a little crinkle forming between her brows.

“Do you see them?”

“Only Heather. Barb’s more… in my head,” He answers, cocking his hip and shifting his weight to one leg.

“And you’re trying to figure out why you?” She asks, even though they both know.

“Why me. What I can do to handle it, what I should know… y’know. Seeing Dead People 101,” he mumbles with a shrug. This isn’t something he thought he’d be asking for help with, but well… he also hadn’t thought that Eddie would die or that he’d find out he could talk to dead people.

“This is pretty new to you, isn’t it, honey?” Genevieve gestures for him to sit with her in one of the seats nearby. Gareth does, feeling the heaviness of relief like all the adrenaline’s gone out of him. She gets it.

“Couple weeks like this,” he says hesitating to share the rest, but she’s looking at him expectantly. “Maybe my whole life, though, and I just never noticed because people said I was anxious for always feeling like there was someone watching me.”

She hums sympathetically. “It’s scary, isn’t it? How did it start—the whole thing?”

“My best friend died,” Gareth says, fighting to keep his voice steady, “and we’d gotten a ouija board like, ages ago—his idea, just stupid kid stuff—but it had been in my basement ever since and I just thought… maybe…”

“He died just before that, didn’t he? It’s still really new, isn’t it?” She asks, voice so gentle. If this is what she sounds like relaying messages from the great beyond to her clients, Gareth can sort of see the appeal. Gareth just nods, not trusting his voice.

“Sometimes grief breaks down the barrier—it makes you more susceptible, especially if you’re already sensitive,” she explains in that quiet, gentle tone.

“I can’t find him, though,” Gareth admits. His voice cracks. “There’s Barb and Heather, and the little girl that follows the Chief, and I know there’s gonna be others but… I can’t find him.”

Her fingers lace into his, squeezing in solidarity. She knows what he’s trying to do—to find one soul in a sea of billions—is beyond what anyone should reasonably expect of a grief-stricken sixteen-year-old, no matter how gifted they might be. Even she can’t reach into the aether and pluck out who she needs on command. All you can do is call for them and hope they come. All you can do is practice so you get better at calling them in. He hasn’t even had the time to practice.

“What you’re trying to do is incredibly difficult, even for someone who’s done this for years. It’s not impossible! But I need you to understand it might take you years to find him. Things aren’t the same on the other side. They don’t exist in a linear time like we do. A year could be a moment, an afternoon could be a century. And while many stay close to where they lived… nothing is guaranteed,” she explains gently, thumb rubbing his knuckles, “All we can do is call for them.”

It breaks her heart, the look on his face. So she makes a decision. She’s going to help him, this shattered, gifted kid. He’s trying to do the impossible, but he’s not going to face it alone.

Three hours later, Gareth is leaving with just about everything she knows, a pendulum, and a deck of tarot cards to experiment with. Genevieve thinks he could be good. Great, even, something in her mind whispers. He’s already sensing more than most do when they start training their gifts. He’s already sensing more than most professional psychics she encountered. And at least now he knows how to keep himself safe.

When he pulls out his wallet to offer her some money for her help, she waves him off.

“I won’t take your money, Gareth the Great.”

He freezes, giving her a strange look. “What did you say?”

“‘I won’t that your money, Gareth’?” she repeats, voice lilting up in a question. Her brow is furrowed.

“Never mind, I must’ve misheard you,” he mumbles, “Anyways, thank you. For the help. I needed it.”

Genevieve flashes him a sweet smile. “Drive careful, Gareth. Don’t speed.”

As her door falls closed behind him, Gareth looks up to the sky and whispers, “Eddie? Are you here?”

Gareth knows Barb is around when he sees that image of a blank test, an empty line at the top waiting for a name. He’s doing his own homework, sprawled on his soft tummy on the floor of his room, but he sits up once he sees it.

“Your name is Barb, honey,” he murmurs. Barb Holland appears on the test before it disappears from his mind. “Atta girl. Whatcha need?”

Barb doesn’t really have an answer for him. He can sense a shrug of sorts. She’s just here to be here.

“Wanna hang out with me? Cool, there’s something I wanted to try with you.”

He fumbles for the deck of cards he’d dropped on his nightstand and pries open the cardboard box. As Genevieve showed him, he fans them out face down on the floor.

“I’m gonna point to them in line, you tell me when to stop, okay? Show me a card for um… Nancy! Show me a card for Nancy.” He explains. As he traces his finger over them, he gets a flash of a cherry-red stop sign. He moves his finger back until it happens again, and tugs the card Barb had selected out of the deck. Queen of Swords. He has to look at the booklet to know what it means, but it makes him laugh. Perceptiveness, clarity, complexity. Nancy.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” He chuckles as he tucks it back in the spread. “Okay, again, but this time let me figure out who?”

He drags his finger along until he pulls out a card that makes his fingers tingle like they’re cold in the icy winter weather Hawkins gets every year. It’s the Hierophant, but he’s upside down. Reversed, Genevieve had said. Gareth can’t figure it out. Isn’t that card about tradition?

“Gimme another hint?”

This time, it’s the Fool he pulls, teetering precariously along the edge of a cliff. That doesn’t clear it up any.

“One more?”

It isn’t until the grinning face of the Devil is looking back at him that Gareth pieces it together. He reaches for the book, flipping through it.

Nonconformity, free spirit, playfulness. And well, the grinning devil face on his Hellfire shirt that’s draped over the edge of his hamper.

“Eddie?!” Gareth yelps, looking around the room as if he might catch a glimpse. “Is he here? Eddie?”

There’s a cold, still pressure on his wrist, regretful and comforting. Oh. No Eddie. Gareth feels the pull to draw another card, and he does. The Hermit, reversed.

“Who’s this, Barb?” He ponders aloud. He’s rewarded with a glimpse of himself—more of an impression than a picture. The fluffy outline of his curls, red plaid, a crooked grin, soft rolls of flesh around a waist.

“Did you just call me fat, Barb?” He laughs, too amused to be offended. Is that how she perceives him? She doesn’t answer but she urges him to pull another card. The Lovers. He lays it between the Hermit and the Devil. He can feel her question in the air around him.

“Oh, um, no. We weren’t. I mean, I love hi—I loved him, but not like that. More like two halves of a whole.”

Eddie had been his best friend, and maybe they had looked like lovers sometimes, but it was only because they shared one soul, split neatly in two. Now the other half of Gareth’s soul was gone.

“Thanks for letting me talk about him, Barb. I’m sure everyone else is sick of my crying.”

There’s pressure on his shoulder as if someone has laid a comforting hand on him. It lingers for a moment before it fades and the slightly smothering feeling is gone from his room. Gareth gathers up his cards and stretches out again to finish his homework. He’s still got to keep moving forward.

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth stranger things #stranger things fic #st4 #ghost of you fic #eddie munson #horror fiction

3 notes · View notes

differenceonlyyoucanmake · 3 years

Text

12 Dancing Princesses Thoughts/ Headcanons/ Assorted Stuff that Came to Me in a Dream

I’m kind of tired, so this may be incomplete. I wanted to put it out there, though. My dreams have mostly been from Courtney’s perspective, not an omniscient one. Because of this, there may be some gaps.

Ashlyn:

- Deserved so much better

- It actually makes me upset. I woke up from one of my 12dp dreams in TEARS because she deserved so much better.

- After Isabella passed, Ashlyn took on the role of being a maternal presence to her sisters. She did this extremely well, but it’s also heartbreaking how she pushed herself to grow up.

- Randolph was not a capable father during the lowest periods of his grief, and Ashlyn definitely had to compensate for this.

- Randolph... could have been kinder to her, especially after the queen died. He couldn’t look Ashlyn in the eyes. She reminded him too much of his late wife.

- Isabella wanted Ashlyn to inherit her belongings and position, but Randolph had his own favorites (I promise I don’t think he was an evil person, but he could have done better).

- I think Ashlyn would identify as bisexual.

- She knew several instruments, but was most attached to the flute. Her most treasured memories involved Isabella giving her flute lessons.

- She was expected to be the mature one all the time, so she repressed a lot of her own frustrations in favor of caring for others.

- She was closest to Blair and Courtney.

- She was a little soft spoken, and one of the most “ladylike”; Ashlyn was one of the sisters who struggled least with Rowena’s lessons.

- The younger sisters had a hard time remembering that she was a person capable of all sorts of feelings. They expected parental behavior from her, and got really confused when she expressed negative emotions.

- Some of the sisters assumed Ashlyn didn’t care for sweets, because she would offer hers to the others whenever they got any. In reality, she thought this was kind behavior. She showed sacrifice in several, seemingly inconsequential, ways.

- Despite seeming so mature, she always felt as if she stopped growing up after her mother passed.

- As the sisters grew up, Ashlyn really struggled with finding her purpose. She didn’t get the power her mother promised her. She put her own ideas and prospects aside to care for her sisters. She ended up floating from kingdom to kingdom, with varying success in several different courts. She eventually came to live with the other eldest sisters.

- Despite being (in my view) cheated out of her kingdom, Ashlyn seldom expressed frustration or resentment. She adopted the attitude of a retired noble early in life, spending a lot of time on composing music and serene hobbies.

Blair

- horse.... horses..... sleeping in the stables...... with the horses

- I’m kidding! Mostly!

- Blair was bold and opinionated. She also loved witty conversation and comedy.

- What else did she love? Horses.

- She would sneak out all the time to ride.

- Her favorite horse was black and very tall.

- She was closest to Ashlyn and Courtney.

- Blair was sick in childhood.

- Though the older sisters were known for being more refined and elegant, Blair pushed this notion plenty.

- She loved adventure.

- All of the sisters missed the golden pavilion, but Blair struggled with this a lot.

- She didn’t have as many problems with Randolph, but sometimes she would CAUSE problems on purpose (mostly defending Ashlyn and calling out his favoritism).

- She turned her own estate later in life into a close replica of the pavilion. The grounds were massive.

- She was intelligent, but struggled with many academic tasks. If she needed to read something that was challenging, she would often hand it to Courtney for help. She would only have motivation to read if it was about subjects she loved.

- This is ironic, because she later came to be a published writer. I believe these were short works, similar to pamphlets.

- Blair enjoyed throwing and attending large balls and gatherings. She was still chasing the thrill of the magical visits she’d make with her sisters.

- Blair was considered extremely beautiful, and drew admirers wherever she went. She accumulated many pieces of ruby jewelry this way.

- She also liked wearing capes and cloaks.

Courtney

- Generally shy, Courtney made an exception when she stood up for Ashlyn.

- Courtney longed to travel, and books provided her with a form of escapism until she was able to.

- She had a health scare after the events of the movie, and this somehow tarnished her standing in society??

- She wasn’t straight, probably a lesbian.

- She was well read on political matters and the history of their kingdom, and would often be the first one to noticed Randolph’s incompetence in certain areas.

- She was a young teen when she first started rewriting her father’s treaties in her spare time. She learned after the first time not to bring her drafts to him.

- When Ashlyn and Blair left home, she grew closer with Fallon. Both had a streak of wanderlust, and gravitated towards the romantic.

- Courtney published poetry under a pseudonym starting at a young age. This probably helped her somewhat. As she grew up, her poems grew in notoriety, and many debated who their true writer was. A significant portion focused on love between women and feeling trapped.

- I think she had been to Apollonia (Antonio’s kingdom in Island Princess) several times, and knew both Luciana and Antonio from an early age. I think this was the case for many of the older sisters.

- After their mother died, the girls traveled less, and met less new people. Courtney was bothered by this.

- She was generally thought of as calm and quiet, but she felt emotions deeply ( even if she didn’t always express them).

Delia

- Athletic and spunky

- Delia enjoyed more structured sports.

- She was prone to sunburns.

- Delia was enamored with the sun and light. She would hang prisms next to her windows to watch the light refract.

- She was closest with her twin, Edeline. They enjoyed playing croquet together and (though it was usually harmless) gossiping.

- Delia had a temper. She would deal with guilt afterwards if she lashed out at someone.

- Her emotional regulation issues came to light after her mother died.

- Delia dealt with a lot of guilt in general. She didn’t feel as put-together as her older sisters, or as carefree as the younger ones. She felt guilty for not fitting in, and expressed feeling like an inconvenience to those around her.

- Outsiders thought she was dim-witted, and she internalized this.

- Delia often had a problem of interrupting people or speaking loudly, so it was advised that she stay quiet when visitors came. This really hurt her self esteem, since she was always happy to make new friends.

- Rowena had offended her when she was a young girl, and Delia never forgot this.

- Delia liked birds, and hummingbirds fascinated her.

- She had to learn to accept herself later in life.

- She discovered people who appreciated her for who she was, and finally left her inhibitions behind.

- After that, she became known for her charisma and charm.

Edeline:

- Edeline shared a lot of interests with her twin, such as sports and outdoor activities.

- She enjoyed making others laugh.

- Once Genevieve married Derek, Edeline took it as her cue to BULLY that poor man.

- Seriously, it probably warded off suitors for her other sisters.

- It was usually in good fun, though.

- Edeline disliked rules and structure.

- She was closest with Delia.

- She often stood up for her twin.

- Edeline had a good ear for gossip, and had her own methods of fact checking stories she’d heard.

- Something happened with her at Genevieve’s wedding?? Maybe she broke something??

- Edeline traveled some, but found her way back home eventually.

- She DESPISED Rowena. None of the sisters liked her, but Edeline couldn’t stand her from the beginning.

- Edeline would have loved to know about the concept of roast humor.

- She liked to have sleepover-like setups in their bedroom. She would build forts and encourage the others to come tell ghost stories. When the memories of her mother came to her, she felt the need to DO something, even if the action wasn’t necessarily related.

- She became known for her humor.

Fallon

- Fallon was pretty much independent, until she and Courtney bonded.

- Fallon always wanted pets, and was jealous that only Genevieve was allowed to have one (besides....bugs and the horses, who were kept outside).

- She would try to befriend wild animals, and nursed some injured animals back to health.

- I don’t think Fallon was straight.

- Fallon was sensitive, and had a hard time dealing with Rowena’s harsh treatment.

- Fallon had nightmares, and would often go to her older sisters for comfort.

- She enjoyed the company of others. She would spend time with servants and other people considered to be below her station.

- Fallon played the harp.

- She loved the softer aspects of life.

- She devoted time to charitable causes.

- I just know that she did that classic princess trope of posing as a commoner. That’s such a her thing to do.

- She gained a reputation for being eccentrically kind. She had a large family of animals, who she took EXCELLENT care of.

Genevieve

- You may have noticed that the older sisters were generally closer with each other. Well, Genevieve wasn’t, and she made it that way.

- She.... liked to act like she was in charge. She often undermined Ashlyn’s efforts.

- She was Randolph’s favorite.

- Genevieve got along better with the younger sisters, especially Lacey.

- She probably did have leadership skills, but a lot of them came from acting like she did.

- Like I’ve implied above, she got a lot of power after she married, instead of Ashlyn.

- Derek wasn’t a bad person, but he was a COBBLER. How did she get more political power by marrying a COBBLER?

- She butted heads with Blair and Courtney quite often after the events of the movie.

- Basically, she had Main Character Disease dsfghjk

- She traveled less than the other older sisters.

- Admittedly, she wasn’t a poor leader.

- I have a feeling she adopted a lot of children later in life.

- She and Derek had a pretty long transitional period after they married, meaning they spent more time really figuring out who they were as a couple rather than jumping into their duties right away.

- Genevieve kind of symbolized the cutoff for the sisters who had lots of solid memories about their mother and those who didn’t.

- She was one of the best dancers out of the sisters.

- She was brave and self-assured.

- She knew what she wanted, and she would get it.

- After Twyla, she got some other cats. They were mostly orange and/or long haired.

- She never quite shook her habit of being late.

Hadley

- Hadley was closest to their twin, Isla.

- As Hadley grew up, they became more comfortable being gender nonconforming. They may have been trans, but I don’t remember.

- Hadley enjoyed fencing.

- Stilts were Hadley’s first love, and led to appreciation for other daring activities.

- Hadley also loved the ocean. Many of their adventures involved being at sea. They spent years sailing longside their twin on a ship Genevieve gifted them.

- Rumors swirled that they were a pirate. Though these weren’t true, Hadley didn’t mind.

- Hadley was energetic and intuitive.

- Hadley was an athletic risk-taker. They enjoyed acrobatics and other feats of the human body.

- Hadley became known for their adventurous exploits and fencing prowess.

- Though Hadley initially idolized Genevieve, she eventually sided with Ashlyn and the other older sisters once she learned the whole story.

- Hadley stayed with the older sisters after whatever scary thing happened with Courtney.

- Hadley mentored people, and may have been a teacher.

- She really missed the times when all of their sisters got along.

- There were rumors that Hadley was affiliated with darker forces, when in reality Hadley was one of the most well-adjusted.

Isla

- Isla was closest to Hadley.

- Isla liked adventure, but she was less daring than Hadley.

- Isla stayed our of most business involving the older sisters, preferring to spend time with her twin.

- She loved swimming.

- Isla had a collection of maps.

- She was known for being easy going.

- She sometimes had to bring Hadley down from an idea that seemed too dangerous.

- Isla was the voice of reason in some situations.

- She never lost her passion for dance, and learned new styles through their travels.

- Isla had pet birds.

- She was admired for her grace and acrobatic talent.

- Isla enjoyed circus-like acts.

- She was more bothered by the pirate rumors than Hadley.

- Isla enjoyed researching magic, and trying to find a way back to the magic pavilion.

- Isla was non-confrontational.

- She tried many forms of artistic expression, from writing to painting.

- Isla was loyal to Hadley, and would be there for her twin no matter what.

Janessa

- Janessa maintained her love of insects.

- Since they were so young when it happened, none of the triplets remember details of the magic pavilion. If their sisters weren’t there to confirm their memories, they would have thought it was a dream.

- Janessa grew up to be very interested in science.

- Janessa found the proper way to care for insects, and took pride in how well she did it.

- She was prone to worrying.

- She often lamented the fact that she was so young when they visited the pavilion.

- Janessa was considered obedient and passive.

- Janessa heard how much she looked like her mother (though not as much as Ashlyn). She had mixed feelings about this, because she couldn’t really remember what her mother looked like.

- Janessa was closest to Kathleen.

- She became close with Edeline and Delia when she got older.

- Janessa knew she wasn’t Randolph’s favorite, and took this personally. She tried, especially in her youth, to gain his approval.

- She also knew that Genevieve preferred Lacey, even though all the triplets looked up to Genevieve.

- Janessa balanced her love for science with her royal duties, and used what power she had to provide exposure and resources to research institutes.

Kathleen

- Kathleen was creative and unconventional.

- She was closest with Janessa, and became close with Isla later in life.

- Kathleen was known for her paintings.

- She started out painting things like landscapes, then moved into less traditional subjects.

- Her royal portraits were renowned in particular. They captured royalty doing activities that were important to them, or in significant fantasy settings.

- She painted portraits of her siblings and father. These became their favorites. She captured: a relaxed Ashlyn writing music, Blair on horseback in mid-air, Courtney in her library, Delia in the sunlight, Edeline in a fantastical outdoor scene, Fallon with her animals, Genevieve dancing, Hadley fencing, Isla swimming, Janessa surrounded by flying insects in the sky, and Lacey at work.

- Though she tried many times, Kathleen was not satisfied with her attempts of painting her mother. She felt like she was simply copying pre-existing portraits.

- The only painting of her mother she was somewhat pleased with was one of Queen Isabella walking away, her back to the viewer as she walked into a golden pavilion.

- Kathleen tried to paint the magic pavilion, and these painting had a fuzzy, dream-like quality.

- Her art gained a significant following.

Lacey

- She was Randolph’s second favorite.

-Lacey was unshakably loyal to Genevieve. She didn’t understand why the older sisters were upset about her being given power and land.

- Lacey struggled with illness as a child. She was inspired by the healing water at the pavilion to study medicine.

- Lacey struggled with muscle strength and coordination well into adulthood.

- Despite this, she continued dancing.

- She looked very similar to Randolph’s relatives.

- She felt the need to defend Genevieve, and would often challenge her older sisters because of this.

- Although Ashlyn never challenged her, Lacey harbored resentment towards her. She blamed Ashlyn for the fact that Genevieve’s approval wasn’t universal.

- Lacey was interested in scientifically based medicine, as well as magical remedies.

- Lacey was always closest with Genevieve, and lived with her for a long time.

- Lacey idolized Genevieve and Derek’s relationship, often heralding it as the pinnacle of romance.

- She searched for a way back to the magical world, believing it contained the key to eternal youth and immortality.

- Lacey didn’t care for travel as much as some of her sisters, but she usually enjoyed when she did leave her own kingdom.

- She grew up to be Genevieve’s closest adviser, and an accomplished healer.

Canon Noncompliant Things

- The sisters left the pavilion by dancing in birth order. Although Derek did leave by dancing with Genevieve, they weren’t responsible for leaving in the first place. Once again, Ashlyn doesn’t get the credit she deserves dfghjk

- Genevieve had an actual wedding, not whatever that was that was shown at the end of the movie. It was smaller than a lot of royal weddings (because Derek didn’t have many connections or people to invite), but it was a serious affair.

#long post #barbie and the 12 dancing princesses #barbie movie #barbie movies #barbie and the twelve dancing princesses #Barbie in the Twelve dancing princesses

173 notes · View notes

papcrhouses · 3 years

Text

betty billings (originally written by fae, thank you so much ♥)

basics

name: betty genevieve billings faceclaim: olivia holt age: 20 (going to turn 21 in october) birthday: october 19 zodiac: libra year: second subject: art sexuality: bisexual siblings: denver billings (brother), iris billings (sister), hayley billings (sister), marie billings (sister), hadley billings (younger brother), freddy billings (younger brother) exes:

secret (not really but kinda)

it’s no secret that betty’s a big shop-a-holic, and betty has never been ashamed to show it. she loves getting new stuff and showing off her new clothes, jewelry, make up and everything else. she’s a big fan of money and like she’s said herself, if she had no money “she’d die”. betty’s parents decided together that if betty wouldn’t start to do at least something productive they’d cut her off, and she wouldn’t get her trust fund eventually. she would be able to still live at her parents’, but she wouldn’t be able to have what she loves the most: money. she agreed to start studying at st judes if that meant she’d still get money from her parents. the problem is that she hates to work and has decided she’d do the minimum amount of work that is possible to pass. she’s even decided she’d find someone to do some of her work, and she’d pay for it (possible connection).

about, written by fae

betty simply hates the idea of having to work. she’s dramatic and extroverted and the family’s kim kardashian. she has star quality, for sure and a ton of charisma. she’s a shop-a-holic and people struggle to get her to do anything else.

connections

THE CARMICHAELS. she’s their cousin from her mother’s side. she’s probably the closest to bella; they’re close to age and have always gotten along very well. betty considers bella her best friend.

OPEN CONNECTION. betty hates to work, and it wasn’t actually that hard for her to find someone who’d sometimes do some assignments for her. she pays them for the work & a little extra to keep them quiet.

TAKEN BY MATTHEO. first boyfriend ( m ). betty’s a romantic, but has never really had big luck on love. she gets bored easily and falls in love with a new person every day. still, during high school she had a boyfriend. they were the ‘it’ couple of the school, even though both of their eyes were constantly wandering. this was betty’s first boyfriend and even though they weren’t perfect, she was really in love with him. the whole thing ended when betty’s family went on a vacation and her boyfriend didn’t trust her to not cheat on him. she was furious about the break up, telling him she can’t trust him either and these days she avoids him the best she can.

OPEN CONNECTION. ( m/f ) during her first boyfriend betty had a best friend she was crushing on. there was definitely chemistry, but betty was never sure if her best friend felt the same way (they did). betty never wanted to risk losing their friendship, so the whole thing got left with a big question mark. nowadays they’re not as close as they used to be, but betty definitely misses them.

i’ll try to think of more but i’m always up for brainstorming!

#betty: bio #betty: connections

5 notes · View notes

whatsseobb · 4 years

Text

Something Old, Something New (Crystal x Gigi Fanfic) - Chapter 12

AO3 Link

[A/N: Again, I am really grateful to everyone who has ever read this work of mine. I appreciate all the likes and the comments you have sent me. You all are the best. I love writing this fic so much and seeing you all enjoy it means so much to me. Thank you! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. You can message me or go to the AO3 link and leave a comment there so I’ll know what you think of this. Your comments brighten up my day. Again, thank you! Love you!! ❤️️ ]

Synopsis: Crystal finds an enchanting jewelry box from the antique shop. Day by day, she discovers different journal entries hidden inside the box. Where is it coming from? What exactly is the music box? Most importantly, who is G?

Chapter Twelve - The Portrait

Two weeks have passed and there was not a day that Crystal drove to Clayton to look for Gigi. The first week was desperate. She stayed in the same area they were supposed to be meeting in hopes that her lover might have just forgotten the exact date of their rendezvous. It was obviously unsuccessful. For the second week, she drove around the city taking a chance that anyone passing by might be or knew where her lover might have been. She was slowly losing determination and at the end of the second week, she would just go back to the same meeting place and wait there. She didn’t passed up any chance to write a note to Gigi. She made sure she tells her where she was currently but to no avail. Her presence was always missed. There were no replies nor any sign of her.

“Crys, you need to stop at one point. Look at you. You need rest.” Jaida pushed her friend down to sit down on her bed as they all gathered to comfort her. During the days that she was roaming around the city, her friends took turns to accompany her, also to make sure she wouldn’t get lost as well. They never left her side.

“No. What if she turns up? What if I missed her?”

“It has been weeks, Crystal. Wake up.”

The four friends all gathered in Crystal’s bedroom, snacks and drinks all over as they tried to console their downhearted friend. It was a cold winter noon and it surely was felt inside the room.

Empty snack wrappers, drink bottles, pizza and tissue boxes occupied her bedroom floor. Clothes were all over the place as Crystal just picked up and threw her clothes before going back to search for Gigi. Even though her friends helped clean it up, as the next day came, it would just go back to the same messy bedroom.

The three took turns in accompanying Crystal during the evening. They would often find her writing messages and putting it in her music box or staring at the large portrait that the young lady made of her. She was pitiful, to say the least.

“Should I look for Nicolette or Rose? They are her friends. Maybe they’ll know what happened.” The teenager rushed to get her laptop and tried to look for the names of her friends but they were impossible to find. It must’ve been a common name back in their days.

“I should drive to where Gigi lived before. What if she wasn’t able to leave? I’ll do that tomorrow. Come with me, Jaida.”

“Don’t you think you are just wasting your time? I mean, we believe that Gigi exists and we believe all your stories. But take a look at it. She hasn’t shown up even once nor gave you any reply.” Heidi chimed in as she was putting a warm damp towel on Crystal’s forehead to comfort her.

“But she said she will be waiting for me.” The curly-haired teenager lied flat on her bed, tears at the corner of her eyes as she looked at the ceiling, holding on to the last letter that her girlfriend sent her. They had an agreed meeting place, she was sure that she would turn up but she didn’t.

“It has been 60 years for her… Don’t you th-“ Rock was stopped in her tracks when Jaida nudged her by the elbow, signaling her to quit talking. Her friends were all thinking of the same thing. It really had been decades for Gigi, she might’ve forgotten about it or something else might have happened to her, they hoped not.

“Don’t I think what? Tell me.” Crystal rushed back up and was about to advance to Rock when her two friends calmly kept her back. Tears came rolling down her eyes as she went back to sit on top of her bed. She covered her face, her shoulders slumping down as she let out all of her emotions.

“Oh Crystal.” Wrapping their arms around their weeping friend, they all murmured comforting words to her.

“I… I didn’t even get to tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That she means so much to me. That I love her this much.” She crawled into a ball as she embraced her knees closer to her chest, burying her face on it. “Why won’t she come meet me? Did she run away from me? I thought we both feel the same.”

“You need answers, Crys. We understand that.” Heidi took a deep breath as she looked at Jaida and Rock who nodded in unison. “What if… you go back to where it all started?”

“What do you mean, Heidi?” Crystal glanced at her friend, her left eyebrow raised slightly higher.

“Jackie’s thrift shop. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll find your answers there.”

“Good afternoon, girls!” The owner of the shop glanced at the door as the bell chimed, seeing the four teenagers entering. She greeted them with her usual cheerful voice even though she was busy doing something. She immediately went back to stacking the boxes that just arrived back to her storage area.

“Let’s just go back home.” Holding Jaida’s arm, she tugged her back towards the door. Crystal’s face was dark and gloomy, her eyes lifeless.

“Oh, Ms. Crystal! It has been awhile.” Jackie continued bringing in another box coming from the front of the shop. She was followed by a young lady, her brunette locks from the back of her head were the ones Crystal noticed.

“We’ll just be around, Crys. If you need us, just text us.” Rock patted her friend’s shoulder before going with the other girls. Heidi gave her a slight push towards the owner, encouraging her to find her long lost answers.

“Ms. Genevieve, thanks a lot for all these items.”

“No worries. I actually wanted to get rid of them but Granny insisted on selling them in a thrift shop instead. She said that maybe someone might find good use for these.” The young lady offered a kind smile to the owner before putting down the box she was carrying. It was full of old trinkets and knick-knacks, ranging from figurines to desk clocks and a bunch more.

The teenager strolled around the shop, looking at the paintings that were displayed at the corner. A painting of a beautiful meadow with a bench by the lake caught her attention. A sense of familiarity rushed into her as she walked closer to the painting. Thoughts of Gigi came into her mind, her smiles that were full of warmth, her laughter, the way her eyes brightened when they spent their dreams together. Crystal’s heartbeat was becoming too loud to her own ears. Her thoughts became blurry along with her eyes. She was about to make her way to the exit when Jackie noticed her.

“Ms. Genevieve, Ms. Crystal here actually bought some of the pieces you brought in the last time.”

“Really? Wow. What were the things you got?” The young lady turned to look at Crystal, who was standing by the paintings.

The teenager took a deep breath and cleared her throat as she tried speaking without breaking her voice. “Uhmm… Just a portrait and some box.” She looked up and turned her head towards the speaker. Her heart missed a beat, her dark orbs widened as she saw the girl she was talking to. Her brunette, with hints of red, locks shaped her small face, her almond eyes glistening excitedly as she met someone who was the new owner of her grandmother’s trinkets. Crystal’s eyes traced down to her nose placed perfectly in the middle of her face, her rosy plump lips offering a pleased smile. The teenager didn’t realize what she was doing until she heard the owner’s voice saying goodbye to the both of them.

“I’ll leave you two here. Maybe there are some stories about the items you bought that are interesting. Oh, how I love good histories. I’ll catch up with you soon, Ms. Genevieve.” Jackie waved goodbye to them as she walked back to the storage area.

“Do you wanna hear some of my Granny’s story? She loved telling story. She even remembered all the backstory of the items she showed me before. We can have some coffee before I go back to St. Louis.”

This was it. Crystal thought to herself as she allowed the stranger led the way out, crossing the street and arriving to the nearest coffee shop by the corner. The curly-haired teenager followed silently after her. This might be the time she’ll find her answers.

The two sat across from each other on a table by the window. Crystal remained quiet, her mind wandering aimlessly as she played with the handle of her cup of warm coffee. The brunette girl broke the silence, cheerfully sharing stories of her grandmother. Meanwhile, Crystal was just listening to her, sometimes wondering why she talked so much and if it had anything to do with her Gigi.

“Granny really loved the items I brought to Ms. Jackie’s shop. She hoarded a lot of items and didn’t want to get rid of them. Grandpa didn’t mind tho. They were quite a collector. Or maybe hoarder… I honestly don’t know anymore, hahaha.” She let out a soft chuckle as she reminisced of her grandmother and grandfather.

“Granny and Granpa also loved paintings and artworks. They said they weren’t into the expensive ones that you can see from art galleries but I think they had a good eye when it comes to the paintings they collected together. I remember that there were times Granny and Grandpa would hang by the porch and paint together. They sound cute, right?”

“…Yeah.” Crystal meekly agreed, nodding her head once as she locked her eyes back to her cup of coffee. As she was wordlessly listening to the young lady’s stories, her mind was debating with itself. Her fingers silently tapped on top of the table, her leg nervously wobbling and shaking.

“Have you seen that small tree figurine by the shop? The silver one? Grandpa bought that for Granny. She said the tree was similar to the tree she always go to back then. I don’t know. It must have been special to her. Also, that small floral vase. Granny said that her friends bought that for her before. She said that she didn’t really put flowers on it back then, just her paint brushes that she used. Wait, am I too talkative? I’m sorry.”

Crystal lifted her head up in surprise as she shifted her eyes towards the young lady. She shook her head and offered her a faint smile. “No, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, my mom said Granny was really talkative and I might’ve gotten it from her. Hahaha. Oh, I also remember there was a time when I went to visit Granny back at their home in Illinois, I saw this beautiful box that she owned. When we opened it, it was full of random receipts, photographs and even movie tickets. Are you familiar with drive-in cinemas? They used to go there before and have their dates. How sweet.

“There was also this another chest, if I can remember it correctly. It had a cute drawing of two people on the lid. Grandma didn’t want me to open it because she said it was full of letters. Maybe they were love notes from her past lovers. Hahaha. Although Grandpa’s letters were kept on the same box as the cinema tickets. It must’ve been really important to her. They must’ve been really in love back in the days.”

Her mouth was running dry so Crystal took a quick sip from her drink. That story surely struck her interest and attention. It brought her back to the little sketch she made of Gigi and her, the one that she also had on her vanity. The stranger in front of her mentioned about letter. Was it all of my letters for her? Did Gigi really forget about me? Is that why she didn’t meet me that day?

“However, I do remember Granny saying that she’s supposed to give those letters to someone. We have no idea who it might have been. She just mentioned that she wanted to hand it over to someone she hadn’t met in person before. Just through those letters inside the box. It was quite weird, don’t you think? I mean why would she give it to someone she doesn’t know.”

Suspicions were slowly building inside Crystal’s mind as she continued listening intently to the stranger’s stories. Her thoughts continued to banter against each other, as thoughts of Gigi came running back to her. She tried denying it but listening to all of Genevieve’s stories just made sense for her. Maybe she did forget about me already.

The young lady took a long sip of her drink, smiling afterwards as she turned her look back to Crystal. The teenager glanced back and she noticed her soft smile which was a bit too much for her. It was just a constant reminder of her mysterious writer.

“Where is your grandm-“ Crystal’s voice a little too low that the stranger in front of her barely noticed.

“By the way, what were the things you bought again? Maybe I can share with you some stories about them. You know, my granny looooved her stories.”

Crystal dug in her pocket before taking out a small photograph. It was colored sepia, with a little bit of stains on the side which showed how vintage the picture was. The young lady took the little photo in her hand and examined the painting that was shown in it.

“Oh… wait, that’s Granny Gigi!” Just the sound of her name being uttered by someone else felt surreal. It brought shivers down her spine as she felt some beads of sweat coming down her neck. “Granny Roro said I looked a bit like her even when I was a baby, that’s why she insisted to my parents to name me Genevieve. She said that Granny Gigi was very lovely and pretty, as you can see her in the photo. Granny had a loooot of stories about Granny Gigi before. And that painting was really beautiful. Granny Gigi painted that. Granny Roro also told me that that painting was someone Granny Gigi deeply loved.”

“W-what do you mean Granny Roro? Who is she?” Crystal tilted her head to the side as a perplexed look appeared on her face. She obviously couldn’t comprehend all the information at once. All the names and the stories that the stranger in front of her seemed to be too much to process. Mentioning Gigi was where it all crumbled down on her.

“Granny Roro is my grandmother. The one who I was talking about earlier. Granny Gigi was one of her closest best friends together with Granny Nicky. They were quite a gang back then. I mean, they were all really close, like real sisters. That’s how Granny Roro would describe their friendship. I actually didn’t get to meet Granny Gigi but Granny Roro loved her so much. She and Granny Nicky. That’s why she kept some of her stuff.”

Crystal took a deep breath of relief as she realized who the young lady was talking about all along. She was really slowly getting into the conclusion that Gigi would have forgotten about her and married someone else instead. At least now, she was back into feeling that Gigi didn’t forget about her. There was a reassurance that at least their love was not just a fever dream.

“If you don’t mind, did your grandmother ever mentioned where Gi- your Grandma Gigi lives now?”

Genevieve exhaled a sigh before responding to Crystal’s question. “…No. She has been long gone. Back then, the three of them were travelling somewhere far. I don’t remember much about it but something must’ve happened. Only Granny Roro and Granny Nicky survived.”

The last sentence rang again and again inside Crystal’s mind. Even though she heard it loud and clear, it still felt bizarre. Her eyes were clouded with tears that she tried so hard to repress. Her throat tightened and she could barely breathe. She looked up at the young lady and saw her lips moving but there was only silence. The only thing she was hearing were her anguished thoughts, the memories and words from Gigi kept coming back to her. She was in denial. She wished she was back inside her room, with her friends weeping just because she didn’t know where Gigi might have been. At least back then, she didn’t know.

“Oh, hey. Nice talking to you. I’m sorry but I gotta run now. I might miss the bus. I hope you enjoy some more stuff Granny left. She took care of them well so they are in good condition. Uhm, what’s your name again?

The brown-haired teenager exhaled heavily before standing up to shake the young lady’s hand without meeting with her eyes. She just couldn’t look at her face which reminded her of Gigi. “Crystal.”

“I’m Genevieve. Wait, Crystal? Hmm… That sounds quite familiar. I think Granny mentioned a name similar to yours. A friends of theirs or something, I think. Or maybe someone they knew back then. Anyway, nice meeting you! Take care.” Genevieve exited the coffee shop, leaving Crystal behind with her own thoughts. As soon as the young lady left, she packed her things as well. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She ran out of the café and back to her house.

Crystal barely made it home without shedding a tear. She sprinted as fast as she can from the café, her knees wobbling weakly. Her eyes were foggy with sadness as she travelled, her head clouded with thoughts but at the same time empty. As she reached her bedroom, she immediately closed the door and fell on the floor, her back leaning against the wooden entrance. She could hold it in no longer. Once the first tear exited her eyes, the rest followed like pouring rain. She wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in between as she let her desolation take over her.

For what seemed like endless hours, the melancholic teenager sat motionlessly on the floor, staring at the vast emptiness in front of her. She let her sobs roll down her cheeks, as she scanned her small room. Her eyes stopped at the corner, where a portrait of a smiling girl was hanged. Despite her quivering knees, she used all her strength to push herself up. She walked heavily towards the corner, her hand reaching out to the painting. She picked it up and carefully removed the canvas out of its frame. She looked at the painting up close, staring at every stroke and print on the painting. Her hands traced down towards the lower corner, where the signature of the artist was placed. Her thumb delicately brushed against the indented letter ‘G’. Tears once again streamed down from her eyes as she was reminded of her lover. As she gently returned the canvas back to its frame, something dropped from the portrait. Chin trembling, Crystal picked up the paper that fell from the painting. She carefully returned the frame back to its place before she opened the piece of paper. She wept.

Crystal’s hands were trembling as she read the letter Gigi wrote for her. It contained all of the unsaid feelings the young lady had that she wasn’t able to express in words when they last met. As tears were rolling down her face, Crystal froze in her place, still taken aback by the letter.

All the memories they painted together came rushing back into her head, all the smiles and laughter they have shared. From the moment the music box first rang, their first exchange of letters, and the time they first met on the meadow. She reminisced about their first date by the beach, the time they held hands by the shore as they watched the sunset, their first kiss, up to the time they spent in the arcade and inside the car, their final moments together. She remembered everything, every look, every smile and words that came from Gigi’s lips. The warmth of her smiles, the feeling of happiness whenever she saw her happy, it all came back to her. She felt coldness struck her body as she reminisced the young lady’s touch, her hug and her petite frame leaning against her back at the drive-in. The feeling of her arms wrapping around her, forehead’s touching against each other consumed her. Gigi’s fingers running down her hair, her thumb brushing up against her cheeks, she could feel everything about Gigi, all at once. It was an overwhelming feeling, but at the same time, it brought her comfort. A contented smile crept on her lips as she looked at the portrait the scarlet-haired girl painted of her. She took a deep breath, holding the letter close to her heart, the place where Gigi will forever live. -----------------------------------END------------------------------------ [A/N: If you are reading up to here, thank you! As I’ve said earlier, I’m really thankful to all of you reading my work. This is my first ‘’long’’ one and I loved writing and thinking about it. I hope you did too. Although, it feels sad knowing that I ended this already. 😢 You can always message me on how you felt about this story. I hope you loved it. Thank you and hope to see you all again on my next works. Thank you! 💜 💜 💜]

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #crystal x gigi #gigi x crystal #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi fanfiction #rock m sakura #jaida essence hall #heidi n closet #jackie cox #nicky doll #lesbian au #rpdr s12 #fantasy #letters #SOSN Crygi

5 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 74

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Tonight

Summary: Alfie gets Genevieve out of the house and they're met with annoyance at the appearance of a fellow businessman both despise. A disgruntled party from a transaction gone wrong tries to ruin their night and get them both arrested. They succeed in one of those things. But Genevieve proves more adept at being a gangster ('s woman) than even she expected. **Chapter song is Tonight by Hard-FI .**

Warnings/Tags: Intimidation. Night Out. Protective Alfie. Arrest. Gangster’s girl stuff.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie had gotten you out of your rut that you'd put yourself in with your tendency to over think when it came to things you genuinely cared about. So instead of staying in and reading and studying on a Friday, he took you out to his club like it was your first date again.

The dancing girls were in full swing under the bright lights of the stage. The club was dim otherwise, a typical blanket of mystery applied on a busy night to make the patrons want to enjoy themselves. A gentle nudge of encouragement to think they were safer than they were. You were among them, hanging off of Alfie's arm as you made your way into the warm and loud space from the dreary cover of outside.

You had reasons to celebrate and he had made sure you were dripping in jewels and a new gown to not only show your importance to those that would see you together, but to yourself. You had heard whispers of Alfie spending time in the jewelry quarter as of late. You had admittedly gotten a plume of butterflies inside you at the mention of it, springing up thoughts of engagement and proposals. You couldn't help but think the large and sparkling jewels he'd gifted you earlier in the night might be a cover for such activities. He was a very clever man after all, he would know that you would hear he was spending time with the tradesmen. The thought of him hunched over a glass case, bickering with the best of the best in their profession over something for you added a certain twinkle to your eyes on this night when you looked at him. Even when he would grumble and curse as you yet again, kissed his cheek only to have to swipe away at the schmutz left behind. But then again, it never took much for you to look at him adoringly.

You're standing at the stairs that divide the levels of the club, watching the expressions travel across Alfie's face as he speaks about you, praising your talents to a woman who had seen you speak at a charity function. He was a salesman and he was the best you knew, talking you up so people couldn't help but be tempted to buy your works.

"But aren't artists known for being difficult to deal with?" a man's voice that you unfortunately recognized comes from out of sight as the woman you spoke to looks at the tall and daunting man with rapidly blinking eyes, not accustomed to such a rude interruption in part of society.

"Excuse us, Miss." Alfie says politely, a nod given to the woman as she gives the interruption a dirty look and walks away. "What are you doin' here?" Alfie groans, looking Cyrus Horne up and down as he stood with his hands latched to the lapels of his jacket.

"Heard you two love birds were out and about tonight and had to stop by. Not every day I get to speak to both of you at once, is it? Hard to talk to you two, you know."

"I'd prefer it be more difficult." you say with a sigh.

Giving you an amused tilt of his head he smirks down at you. "Even though I know you people don't work on Friday nights. Or at least you say you don't, we know you aren't exactly keeping it all level when it comes to your little foray into being pillars of your community and all that...I thought you might be willing to answer some questions for me."

"If it's business you could make an appointment." Alfie says obviously.

"And you wouldn't see me would you?" he says crossing his arms.

"What is it?" you say exasperated, just wanting him to leave.

"I wanted to check with how you two were doing. Together. I've heard some nasty rumors about you Solomons. Other women...in cities far from here while little Durand here plays homemaker. Never took you for liking blondes." he sneers.

Alfie's shoulder rise and fall but his face stays indifferent. A skill you wish came as naturally to you as it did for him. "If you are accusing me of infidelity I would be happy to say your accusations are false."

You knew what he was referring to and you stand by Alfie's statement with a strong face and squared shoulders. "And what if I had heard he was seen cozying up to a little blonde up in Manchester at some other club?" Horne asks, looking over to you.

"I'd say you don't know what you're talking about." you respond curtly with pursed lips. "And even if he were, which he is not. What business would it be of yours?" you give him a glance of disdain as you flip your hair.

"Well the breaking up of two businesses would be my, in fact, my business. Seein' as you've already caused a bit of trouble for me already."

"What the fuck are ya on about? We ain't been dealin' wif you."

"Not directly. But it seems there was interference with some friends of mine...some Americans. I had a lot riding on their entry into the London business world and they suddenly all pulled out. Calling London businesses undignified and uncivilized."

"What does that have to do with us?"

"From what I hear you were doing some business with some Americans a few weeks ago." he says with certainty.

"I have not had any contracts with any Americans." you shake your head.

"No but there was a meeting." he says with a lilt of superiority.

"No. I had no business with any Americans. If there were new Americans in town in the industry, I would know. I'd be working with Abeille to set up with them before anyone else did." you defend your skills.

"It was about both of your businesses."

"You know I innit been workin' with no bloody Americans." Alfie huffs out.

"I mean both of HER businesses."

"I only have Abeille." you retort.

"Let's let go of that lie for a moment shall we? Between old friends?"

You and Alfie both roll your eyes. "Then fuckin' get on with it, mate." Alfie groans. "Out wif it!" he says with an accompanying hand gesture.

"Durand had a meeting with Americans. This meeting did not come to pass as it should. And I've been told that it was directly due to your interference Solomons." he answers in a snappy tone. "So I want to know why you are involved in Abeille business, as that was what the meeting was originally for, and I want to know why you made a handful of American businessmen fuckin' disappear." he asks, leaning in with his almost white blue eyes that made your stomach churn.

"I ain't been in works with no Americans." he states again definitively. "I certainly not makin' so bloody business men "disappear". What load of bollocks is that? I'm a businessman. I conduct business not snuff it out before it comes to pass. And I don't meddle in Gen's business. It is hers, in whole. It will remain that way. She built it up herself, she handles the contracts and I have no part in it. So I don't know where ya gettin' ya information from. But it's not correct."

"And I have no idea what you're talking about. I'd love to do business with the Americans. An international agreement with some restaurant owners would benefit me greatly. I have no reason to turn away their offers."

"I know you don't. But perhaps your darling here might that you don't know about." he leans into Alfie, speaking quietly. "You've caused a very large disruption in my assets Solomons because of your men interrupting that meeting. I don't know why you did it. But those men turning tail and going back home has cut significantly into my profits. And I am not a man who fucks around with money."

"Neither am I." he sneers back, not backing down from Horne's intense delivery. "And if you got a fuckin' point to make. You better bloody well make it fast because we are here tonight to celebrate and I'll not have to likes of you and your rubbish accusations ruining what should be a night of revelry for us."

"Horne. I don't care for your baseless threats one bit. If you have something, say it. We're both very busy people and I want to get on with this evening, apart from you. Now I have many things to be thankful for and I'd like to continue talking about my achievements with people that have some bloody manners instead of you."

He leans away, his posture pin straight. "I know you're both very, very busy people aren't you?" he says with a cool, calmness to his voice that you do not care for one bit. "I was merely seizing the opportunity to speak with you both. It's so hard to get ahold of you Genevieve, one would have to steal you away to get a word in. And what a shame it would be to have to separate you from your darling, hmmm? A man like him can only make problems for a woman like you."

"I won't have you speaking to her that way." Alfie says pushing up chest to chest with Horne. Despite Horne being taller, Alfie didn't back down with his jutted chin and low brow. You could feel the tension in his muscles as your hands stayed around his arm, your face indifferent to make the scene not look as tense as it was to onlookers.

"And don't speak of him in such a manner." you snap back. "Leave. You know we'll have you forcibly removed and I'd like to avoid you soiling an otherwise lovely night." you say in an offended tone and a sharp nod of your head.

"Very well." he says, readjusting his jacket. "But don't be surprised when his actions come back to bite you, sweetheart."

"Fuck off Horne." you bark at him, not hiding the disgust in your face as you gently pull Alfie back to your side.

Alfie stares him down as he saunters out of the club. People are whispering and trying not to be obvious as they look at the two of you. Alfie lets his shoulders relax, knowing his anger would serve no purpose at the moment, only fueling whatever rumors would be started by the public exchange. "I'm sorry 'bout that love." he mutters under his breath.

"No, no. You did nothing wrong." you insist, reaching over and patting his chest. "He's an animal. Any interaction I've had with him has been absolutely awful and that's without you around as well. He's just a disgusting person. No getting around it."

"You supposed to be celebratin' your fing's tonight and he..." he takes a deep breath and gives a nod to a passerby to show everything was fine.

"Come here my darling." you say, using your gloved hand to move his face towards yours, a gentle kiss to his lips. "I will forget it and enjoy the night with you. Can't let such people ruin our free time can we?" you give him another peck. "So let's forget that fucking tosser and enjoy ourselves, yes?" you say with large endearing eyes that called out for him to play along, even if he was still fuming.

"Right." he guffs out. "Let's go get ya a drink, love." he says, his hand going protectively against your lower back as he moves first through the people towards the bar. ----- Later in the evening, a few glasses of wine in, which nowadays is enough to give you a happy buzz, you're slow dancing with Alfie as the peak crowds have passed. The floor is still alive with moving bodies, lovers in each other's arms as you all sway and stay in your enclosed bubbles of adoration. As much as Alfie disliked dancing in public, he would indulge you on the rare occasion with a slow dance. Tonight happened to be one of those occasions. You were caught off guard as you heard his annoyed tone of voice begin, your eyes closed as your cheek rested against his chest, totally oblivious to the people around you. But he was never oblivious, that was part of his job. His lack of fantasy indulgence afforded you to be able to forget about the less appetizing bits of your life for small suspended moments. It was something that you were grateful for.

"I'm busy innit I?" he says after one of his men tries to pull him away.

"Sir this is. This is important." he says with a stuttered delivery.

"Fuckin' wot then?" he says, keeping you to him as the man sighs and gives in, whispering something to him in his ear. "Fuckin' 'ell." he says and you feel his shoulders slump as his hands are already moving to your back.

"What is it?" you say with an almost sleepy delivery.

"Right. Now pet, I'm afraid I got some bad news." he begins eyes looking over to the entryway as his bottom lip disappears under his full mustache. Your heart sinks and your lips pout involuntarily. He speaks very quietly, his hand moving to your chin to keep your eyes on him. "There's gonna be some policemen comin' in 'ere in a few minutes. They're on their way." he says in a very calm and steady voice.

Your eyes open widely as your back straightens at the news. "They what?" you squeak out.

"Apparently they are comin' to get us for some questionin'." he says as your chin pushes into your neck.

"Us?" you say with a shaky voice.

"'At's what the intelligence is sayin'. Now we innit bein' arrested, yeah? They ain't got nothin' on us. Just like I promised. Me guess is someone has done one of 'em anonymous tips and we know who we've both pissed off tonight." he says with pursed lips. "But you remember what we went over, yeah? In case somefin like this did happen?"

"Of course." you say with a quick nod of your head.

"Then there's nuffin' to worry 'bout is there?" he says with a smile. "They are still on my payroll, right? Probably a call in from a higher up. They can't keep us long. They gotta let us go after a bit. This may end up bein' a long night in a way I had no intentions of it ever bein'. But fink of it as practice, eh? You never really messed with these boys so you'll get some real gangster experience in under ya belt innit ya?" he grins, his nose grazing yours as he keeps his attention split between you and the doors.

"Do you know what it's about?"

"I do not. But no matter what it is, we got a game plan dunnit we?" he gives you a reassuring nod. "They's coming in the doors now, pet. Don't you worry 'bout me, eh?"

You pout despite knowing you both had a strategy for these sorts of events, no matter what happened. "I love you. Don't worry about me either. I've been through worse I'm sure of it." you respond softly with a smile.

"I love you too." he coos back, you both looking into each other's eyes, totally ignoring the pause in the music, the eyes all turned towards you both, still swaying in each other's arms. You ignore the stern words of the policemen as they approach. "Now give us a kiss for the road, eh?" he grins.

You keep your lips together, eyes shut as your arms are pulled behind your backs. Both your faces strong and dignified despite the situation, back straight and proud, eyes non-plussed as you're finally torn apart, sharing an apologetic glance before you're both shown into separate cars.

-------

You sit in the bare room with your hands clasped in your lap and a cup of tea in front of you. You were waiting for another round of questions, your face looking bored much to the annoyance of the men that had been trying to break you.

It had started out as them trying to get any information out of you. You simply sat still and looked at them with large innocent eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about." being the response most commonly given. Then the questions became more specific.

"You were both seen on the night in question when Lord Prittance went missing." one of the two men in the room with you began. One was short and had a mustache and kept his jacket on, he was the one demanding things of you. The other was lean and had bright green eyes, a slight stubble of ginger on his face. You're assuming they were growing tired of being there as well.

You sit and blink at them. Not responding to anything that wasn't a question.

"Did you see him there that night?"

"Where?" you say with a tilt of your head, deliberately messing with them and making them be specific so they couldn't misuse your words.

"At Alfie Solomons club."

"I did. He's rather tall. Wore a dated top hat on top of that. How could a woman with a fashion sense such as I not notice an atrocity like that?" you exclaim.

They both roll their eyes at your answer. "And did you see him leave?"

"No. Alfie and I went back to my home for the night shortly after I saw him."

"Did Solomons interact at all with Prittance? Any arguments, anything to make him react in violence?"

"Absolutely not. My Alfie is not a violent man." you say with complete honesty in your voice as they both narrow their eyes at you. "I was tired and I wanted to retire back to my home with my beau. So that's what we did."

"And you left together?"

"We took his car back to my home outside the city. Where we had a nightcap and went to bed."

"And he was with you all night?"

"We were in each other's arms the entirety of the evening."

"At no point did he leave?"

"No. We sleep in a rather close way after we've been intimate and we had on this particular night and I would know if he had left."

"How would you know?"

You purse your lips at the man. "Because we fall asleep with him inside me." you answer in an offended tone, leaning forward with a furrowed brow. "Do you need to know how we fucked as well? My goodness." you say with a shake of your head as your response makes the man slumped back in his chair at your language.

"Maybe we do." he retorts back with a back attitude.

"I had been enjoying wine all evening and chatting with my dear friend Arthur Shelby. Yes, that Arthur Shelby. He was also staying at my home that evening as he was in town and I wouldn't dare have a friend stay anywhere else but with me if they were so close. He stayed at the club after we left, but I was informed he came home later in the evening my staff. So if you'd like to discuss Alfie's whereabouts with him as well, he would also tell you he was with me the entire evening."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because Alfie was with me the entire night. Pink wine makes me rather amorous and it's possible poor Arthur had to hear us making love as we do go about it for some time after a few drinks. You see Alfie's a rather patient man and he likes to take his time as much as I might be opposed to the idea when I am a bit drunk. Seeing as I was a bit tipsy that night he was on top and it was rather romantic I do recall. He is a surprisingly soft lover. What for how gruff he seems outside of bed. With his harsh appearance and sharp words. But he's always very soft with me. And that night was no different. We made love well into the night but were asleep before the sun came up. We slept in that next morning and had tea in bed. I have my staff that can also attest to this. They most certainly heard our lovemaking if Arthur did not. Alfie can make me rather loud as he's very well endowed and especially gifted with his-"

"Alright!" the cop standing against the wall says, making a rather pleased look appear across your face. These men certainly didn't want to hear your retelling of another man's cock.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." you snark back, drawing your lips together before taking the cup of tea. "Rather good brew." you say as they sit and stare.

"Thanks." the stout one responds. "I made it meself." he says as the other man knocks his arm at the softness and pride the man heard in his voice at a compliment coming from a woman.

"Oh yeah? Cheers." you say, raising the cup before taking another drink.

"I think we're done for now. You wait here." the more cross looking of the two says as he yanks the arm of the sitting man and takes him outside the room.

Your tea is long since finished before they come back in again. One standing in the doorway as the other motions a long arm towards his direction. "You're free to go."

"Oh thank you boys." you say gathering your coat and putting it back on. "Everything check out?" you ask with a polite and sweet face as you stretch before leaving the room, the men in front and behind you.

"Everything checked out with the Shelby's." he says with a tired voice.

"And what of Alfie? Should I be expecting him?"

"They're still talkin' to 'im." the shorter one says with a mumble, his head knocking back in the direction you came from.

You hear raised voices come from down the hall. "I think shouting is a more apt description. You better not have been too rough on the old boy. He has a bad back you know." you pout, adjusting your fur collar and fluffing it with a prissy exterior as the two men looked at you with both annoyance and interest.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." the taller says. "You can wait or he'll be released shortly. They've been at it all night." he says, his hand running down his face before he sighs with a groan and walks away.

"You know Miss Durand. You seem like an intelligent lass. Why are you mixed up with Solomons, eh?"

"Because I love the man."

"Eh." he says with a shake of his head. "You don't seem like the type to led around by your heart. Most women break under interrogation. Not take it like it's gossip at high tea like you." he says with a huff of amusement.

"Perhaps I can be both, yes?" you say with a smile and pat the man's arm. "Thank you for your time, sir." you say with a small bow and turn to walk out into the morning sun.

It's breaking over the mountains, Ollie sitting on the hood of one of Alfie's car's as you emerge from the confines of the dark and musky station.

"Oh Genevieve, are you alright?" Ollie asks, forgetting his place in the absence of Alfie and putting his hands to your shoulders.

"Quite alright, Ollie. Thank you. Any word on Alfie? They were still yelling at him last I heard." you say, rummaging through your purse for your mirror.

"Nothing yet. Time's almost up on the hold though. So should be any time. We can take ya home or call another car. Whichever ya like."

"I think I'll stay and wait. I'd like it if he did the same for me." you say, using your gloves to wipe under your eyes, erasing the smeared makeup that was left as proof of your long night. "He'll probably want to go home after anyway. We'll save some petrol this way." you say dismissively, waving your hands as you snap the compact shut after fixing your makeup.

"I can get you some food if you'd like?" he asks with genuine concern. "Thank you Ollie but I'll wait until I get home. I just had some tea in the station, I'll be fine." you pat his arm and move towards the car. "But I am rather knackered so I'm going to sit in the car to wait." you say with a lazy nod as he shuffled forward to open the door for you. "Any other news? Everything alright while we were in there?" you ask, settling into the seat and talking to Ollie as he had his weight against the side of the car.

"Nothing that I've heard." he shrugs. "Closed up the club at the normal time. Everything was as usual, didn't want to cause a panic. Tried to kill any rumors with answering questions as people left. Just wanted to ask ya some questions in regard to a missing acquaintance we said."

"Not entirely a lie."

"Did they not ask ya that?" his head turns back to you.

"They did but they were really just casting a very wide net for anything. It was rather strange. The informant for the tip must've been right. They didn't know anything. Just knew that Prittance was missing."

"Was that his name?" Ollie asks.

"Yes. Best we don't say it again." you say with a long exhale.

"Yes Miss. My apologies." he ducks his head and looks back to the doors of the station.

"What's the time darling?" you ask, starting to nod off in the car.

"Quarter eight, Miss." Ollie replies, his fingers fidgeting.

"My word. Alfie will be too old to bear children when he's released at this rate. Christ." you groan, slouching in the seat.

"Perhaps not." Ollie cheekily answers you quickly, rushing towards the doors as a roughed up Alfie appears.

"Speak of the devil and he will appear." you say with a broad smile as you approach him with open arms. "My darling, they didn't fuss about you too much did they?" you ask with pouted lips as you take his face and kiss his cheeks.

"Nah. Buncha twats, they are." he groans, rubbing his head before putting on his hat, his hair a right mess underneath.

"Shall we go home?" you ask, taking his arm and rubbing his back.

"Are you alright love?" he asks, looking closely at you with a furrowed brow.

"Oh quite alright. Not to worry, darling." you coo as you hold his hand.

"Good, that." he nods, grunting and resituating himself in the benched seat. "Take us home. Night's gone on bloody long enough." he says loudly with a shake of his hand. "Seems they called up your Shelby and after that, they didn't 'ave much else to say 'bout anyfing."

"Arthur? I did tell them he was around." you nod and snuggle into his arm, crossing your legs towards him as his splayed out, taking up most of the back seat.

"Nah. The other prick." he grins.

"Tommy? Oh our Parliament boy?" you chuckle.

"'At's the one."

"Well it seems he's come in handy hasn't he?" you say with a hopeful sigh, patting Alfie's thigh before he takes your hand into his.

"Never thought I'd agree to that, yeah?" Alfie huffs out a coarse laugh.

"Looks as I've come in handy again for you Solomons." you reply defensively but with a smile.

"Ya always do, love." he says with a kiss to your forehead. A deep grunt, his muscles exhausted as he puts his arm around you and cuddles you close on the lengthy drive home.

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

#Alfie Solomons #Peaky Blinders #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x ofc #Alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders au #alfie solomons au #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fiction #tom hardy

86 notes · View notes

hornsbeforehalos · 7 years

Text

Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 5

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)

Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC**

Series Masterlist Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart. Warnings: Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please

(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.)

TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @wayward-mirage

“Ho-Lee Shit, baby doll!” Jeffrey bellowed as I walked out of the bathroom from getting ready.

My red dress was floor length, but not overly formal. It was flowy with slits on the sides to show off my legs when walking, and had a scooping neckline that gathered around my belly, exposing some cleavage but not anything that would send me on the expressway to Hell. My black strappy heels lengthened my legs and showed off my calves. I had opted for loose curls in my hair and dramatic black eyes shadow and lashes but only gloss on my lips. There was even a nail salon below Jeffrey’s apartment complex so I had splurged on sharp black claws and a pedicure after lunch. I beamed at his praise again as I took in his ever-sexual form myself. He was in a button up shirt that had almost the exact same hue as my dress, which he assured me was a total coincidence, as well as nice dress slacks and the black blazer I had recently given back to him. He looked like a sex god on a stick. He quickly pulled me to his chest and ran his hands down my sides as he bent over to nuzzle his beard across the sensitive flesh that was my neck.

“You look divine, Ms. Ackles.” He growled as he rocked us side to side.

“Why thank you, Mr. J” I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Anytime, Sweetheart.“ There they were again, those two words. I couldn’t help the hum that rang through my chest.

He pulled away to look me up and down again, shaking is head as his eyes roamed with his tongue between his teeth. He kissed me on the forehead before turning and grabbing a box from his coffee table that I hadn’t noticed. It was wrapped in red sparkling wrapping paper and had a black bow. He held it out to me. "What’s this?” I questioned as I took the box from his hand. "I missed Christmas. And flowers aren’t the best birthday gift.“ he grinned and brushed his beard down. I smiled back at him and begun unwrapping the paper. I pulled it all off to reveal a black suede jewelry case. I looked up to Jeffrey and he had crossed an arm across his sternum to hold up his other arm at the elbow that was rubbing his chin. I opened the box to reveal the most beautiful chocolate diamond and rose gold owl pendant. I gasped as I touched it, words not forming in my brain.

"This is too much, Jeffrey. How much did this cost you?” tears formed in my eyes against my will. “Just a couple hundred thousand, nothing serious” he deadpanned as my eyes went wide, “I’m kidding, sweet heart. But don't worry about it. You deserve it.” He reached for the box in my hand and removed the necklace. He walked behind me as I held my hair to the side so he could place the necklace on me and fasten the clasp. He let his cool fingertips run down my neck and onto my shoulders, eliciting shivers down my spine. He bent down to nuzzle his beard into my hair again, causing my breath to catch in my throat once more. "Perfect,“ He breathed, dangerously close to my sensitive skin. He took advantage and let his lips drag themselves across the flesh of my exposed neck, "Always so perfect.” I looked down to gather myself from the haze that was provided by his words before returning my stare to him though my lashes. I smiled lightly as he moved in front of me again and put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re too good to me, Jeff.” "No one is ever too good for you. Always never good enough.“ He cupped my face into his hand and leaned in to kiss my forehead before extending his arm out for me, "Shall we?” “We shall” I laughed.

He had made special reservations at a very nice restaurant that neither of us could pronounce the name of. We sat in a back booth of the dimly lit area, sipping wine and laughing a little too loud about absolutely everything. “And then Dani just screeched at me as loud as she could ‘Get these fucking things outta me!’ while almost breaking my fucking hand! I swear to God if I ever have children then I want to be loaded up with the best drugs on the market. All that other bullshit is insane. I feel so bad for Gen right now.” I laughed, taking a sip from my glass. “Who in the hell would do that to themselves? Twins especially? And Genevieve should know any kid of Jared’s is already bound to be a fucking bowling ball.” He barked before taking a bite of his steak "That’s what I said!“ I huffed as I stabbed a piece of my own strip as well. "So,” I spoke, trying to swallow my bite as I brought my napkin to my mouth, “Where are we watching the fire works?” He narrowed his eyes at me and chuckled before looking down to his plate, “You can’t let anything be a surprise, can you?” My response was me rolling my eyes. “The roof.” he pointed upwards with a mouth full of potato.

We were standing on the roof of the building, surrounded by a bout a hundred other people, but the only person in my line of vision was Jeffrey. I looked up at him, arms around his neck, feeling his hands at my hips as he swayed us to the rhythm of the music being played.

"You’re so fucking beautiful.“ He breathed, leaning down to touch his for head to mine. I closed my eyes and smiled as the 10 second countdown began. I raised my eyes back to him as the seconds ticked by, and found myself lost in his irises. He rubbed his hands up my body and pushed them into my hair in the final seconds,

"3…2…1” he whispered, although at this point i was completely oblivious to anything else around me as he inched his face closer to mine. He tightened his grip on my hair as he closed the gap between our mouths, a long awaited moment finally erupting as fireworks took off in the background at the ball’s decent. My eyes squeezed shut tightly and a moan erupted from my lungs as I held onto his shirt under his blazer for dear life, praying I wasn’t dreaming. He eagerly parted my lips with his own and pushed his tongue past my teeth as I pushed my own tongue back against his in a violently dance for dominance. His hands left my hair so one could hold my neck lovingly and the other could drag itself down my body to the small of my back, then slightly lower, pulling me flush with his body. His fingertips kneaded into the waistband under my dress and he hummed into my mouth when he felt my breath hitch at his touch. When the shouts and celebratory screams had died down was when he finally pulled away from me and we both gasped in a breath of air before opening our eyes. And when I finally did let my eyes flutter open to be met with his intensity, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread over my face. He smiled back nervously, brought his hands up to my face again and searched my eyes. I threw my self forward and kissed him again, and he smiled into me while dipping me backwards, pulling me as close as possible to him. When we completely pulled apart again I wasn’t lost anymore. I wasn’t broken. I was just falling.

The Uber ride home was a blur. Neither of us could keep our hands away from each other, making the poor driver extremely uncomfortable. It was a haze of teeth and lips and limbs, and it wasn’t until we were back in his apartment that either one of us even attempted to compose ourselves. "Wanna drink?“ He asked as his lips were still pressed against mine as he pulled off his blazer. "Yes,” I replied, only pulling away to shrug off my own coat. He drug me over to the couch and sat me down, leaning over again to plant kiss on my forehead before smiling into my eyes. He pulled his hand out of my hair with a lingering touch that made my stomach warm and my heart flutter. He sauntered over to the bar cabinet with a new little swagger that I hadn’t noticed before. He grinned at me as he pulled out the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. His eyes only left me briefly as he looked down to pour our drinks. Once back over at the couch, he handed me my glass while sitting at the other end of the sofa. He pulled my feet into his lap with his free hand and rubbed my ankles. "So little, how do you walk in these things?“ He chuckled as he wrapped his whole hand around my left ankle and gave it a squeeze. I hummed a small laugh in response. He removed my shoes from my feet with one swift movement of his hand as he brought his glass to his lips. He began to massage my soles as his eyes danced up my legs and over my frame and back to my face. A smirk appeared as he leaned forward to place his glass on the coffee table. I eyed him suspiciously as I raised my own glass for a drink, almost finishing it in one gulp as the look in his eyes altered, causing my anxiety to rise from the pit. He leaned over side ways on the couch, rubbing both of his calloused hands up my legs to my thighs. I swallowed again as he lowered his mouth to the the tattooed flesh of my right leg below the hemline of my dress. His eyes never left mine as he leaned up slightly to push one of my legs forward to then pull it behind his back and lean forward again, now settling between my legs. My shaking hands brought the glass to my lips for the final sip before I sat it down to join Jeffrey’s on the table. One hand instinctively moved to my chest to finger the pendant resting against my cleavage as the other roamed through Jeffrey’s hair, feeling the softness. My breathing caught again as he pushed himself up by my hips, pulling himself up to place his hands on the couch above my shoulders, encasing me with his body. My thighs automatically wrapped themselves around the back of his legs to allow him more room as he rolled his hips forward and kissed me on the mouth again. "Mmmm, baby, you feel so good,” He groaned after a moment of shifting his body against mine. My mind was so hazy with lust and alcohol that all I could do was whimper and dig my nails into his shoulders. His lips moved from my mouth to my jaw, then down further to my neck, gently nipping at the sensitive flesh with his lips and teeth. My breathing was heavy as my chest heaved against him as he moved his mouth down to the valley between my breasts. He shifted his weight to hold himself up on one arm as the other roamed down to push the neckline of my dress away from my bra so he could have better access. He licked over the flesh pushing against the constricting lace, his scruff rubbing against the sensitive areas and leaving red marks that brought another moan from my lips and made my body shiver. I closed my eyes before they could roll to the back of my head and arched up into him, both hands tugging at his waves as the heat between us pooled and pooled. A low growl reverberated within him as he crashed his lips back to mine and bucked his hips forward again, seizing another whimper from me.

"So beautiful…“ he whispered into my neck as my own hips pushed upwards to grind against him. "Jeff,” I breathed, my anxiety and arousal mixing together to further dampen my ability to speak as we continued to move against each other. He let another deep groan ripple through him and it went straight to my soul as his hand on my side moved lower to grip behind my knee and lift my leg up further onto his hip. He ground down harder, sending another shot of ecstasy through my groin as his hardness pressed and rubbed against me. I couldn’t stop my erratic breathing or shaking hands, even as I pulled him back to my lips by his hair, digging my sharp nails into his scalp. He pulled away from me and leaned up to kneel between my legs, still letting his hands roam across my hips and thighs. My legs were parted and my dress had only risen up slightly, but he still brought his hands to the hemline to pull it back down further. He exhaled deeply, eyes hungrily taking in my disheveled appearance below him. “We’ve gotta stop or you’re gonna make me nut my pants.” He chuckled, fingers glancing over my thighs and knees. My hands met his strong thighs and he let me run my palms up them before stopping me when I shakily reached his belt buckle. "Not tonight, sweetheart.“ He breathed, closing his eyes and removing my hands. He leaned forward to wrap an arm around my waist before rolling back sideways to reposition us to where I was sitting in his lap, straddling him. I leaned forward to capture his lips with mine as my hair fell in our faces. He brought his hand that still held my wrists up to his chest before leaving them there to tangle his fingers back into my wrecked curls. "You’re so fucking beautiful,” He repeated before a heavy gasp against my open mouth. I licked his upper lip as he drew my bottom one into his teeth and nibbled gently, causing me to grind down on him and moan lightly. “Fuckkk.” He groaned, raising his hips to meet mine one last time before pulling away and holding my head still in front of his face as his eyes darted back and forth into mine, “How do you do this to me?” I smiled innocently while searching his irises myself and reaching up to cup his chin, letting my finger tips run through the coarse silver hair. I bit my lip gently before I whispered, “I don’t know.” He swallowed and licked his lips before speaking again, in a raspy almost-whisper, “I’m not gonna rush this thing with you. I know you’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to be someone who does it to you again. I don’t know what this is, or what you want it to be. But I know I enjoy spending time with you, enjoy being around you, enjoy touching you,” he squeezed my hips and dug his fingers into the top of my ass, enticing a gasping laugh from me and another deep smile from him before he continued with a husky drawl, “I want you to know that you’re safe with me. That I’m not going to hurt you. That I don’t expect anything from you.” He moved his hand to push a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you, Jeff.” I whispered, trying to fight the emotion that the alcohol and mood threatened to push over my tear ducts. “Anytime, Sweetheart.” He grinned, and I instantly melted back into his kiss.

"I don’t want to go home tomorrow.“ I whined as we lay in his bed the next morning. We weren’t touching, but we were in mirrored positions on our backs, one hand above our heads and the other on our stomachs. "Then don’t go.” He hummed, turning his head to look at me. "I have to be at work by 8, silly, I got bills.“ I giggled, turning my own head to face him. He rolled his eyes, "I’ll pay your bills and I’m sure John knows how to order a case of booze and some beer.” I glared back at him sarcastically, ignoring the first half of his comment, “Yeah, because that’s the only thing I do.” I rolled my eyes, “I swear that man would burn that place to the fucking ground if I weren’t following him around with a fire extinguisher.” I looked back to the ceiling, “Plus, apparently I’m due for a promotion.” "Oh yeah?“ He rolled over onto his side and propped his head up with his knuckles. "Yeah, one of the vice managers managers moved to corporate so John’s unfortunately getting to take over his spot as dance manager. I’ll be getting his spot, apparently.” "Big boss lady in a suit, huh?“ He grinned, poking me in the sides. I giggled and smacked his hand away lightly. "Yeah, I guess so. I never expected it, honestly. Figured I’d be doomed to sling drinks for tips for the rest of my days, but apparently Cliff insisted.” I rolled over towards him as he moved his hand to my hip. "I’m sure Tom will miss staring at your tits all night.“ He smirked and I slapped his chest, "What? You tease that man too much.” "Please, he’ll prolly be up my ass more when he sees my tits in a vest.“ I shook my head at the thought and couldn’t contain my laughter. "I probably will be too.” He wagged his eyebrows up and down as he tightened his grip on my hip. I scooted over to him to give him a brief kiss before rolling out of the bed to stand up. I started towards the bathroom as I felt his hand come down with a soft 'smack’ on my cotton-short-clad ass. I gasped and spun back around to him looking away innocently. “What?” he grinned, returning his eyes to me, “I couldn’t help myself.”

We spent the morning lounging around his apartment drinking coffee and watching TV. I busted out in a fit of laughter when I was flipping through channels while he was in the bathroom and came across the tail end of the second season premiere of Supernatural. When he came back into the room I had tears rolling down my face and was clutching my sides. “What’s so funny, little girl?” He grinned, confused. I turned the volume on the television up and spoke John Winchester’s line at the same time as the TV, feigning the emotion that he had in the scene, “I just want you to know that I’m proud of you.” I looked up at him with watery eyes and reached for his hand. He instantly erupted in his own laughter as he plopped himself on the sofa beside me and stole the remote. “Enough of that, now.” He shook his head and flipped the channel. "You’re no fun.“ I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest as he tried to pull me into his side. "Pffft, I’m a riot.” he retorted, throwing his arm over my shoulder as I snuggled into his ribs. "Whatever, old man. Whatever you say.“ I poked his ribs and he jerked away from me. "Yeah, whatever I say goes.” He growled, bring his hand around my shoulder down to lightly smack me on the ass again. “Yes sir” I rolled my eyes sarcastically. He growled as he narrowed his eyes, “Don’t start that, Missy.” “Start what, Mr. J?” I smiled coyly, earning me another low grumble from him. “Lunchtime?” He asked as he heard the unmistakable rumble of my belly. “Always.”

Lunch was prepared by Chef Jeffrey Dean Morgan himself, and consisted of grilled chicken, garlic pasta, and mixed vegetables. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the first bite. "Stick with me girl, we’ll get you thick in no time.“ He chuckled beside me at the table, poking at my stomach. "Please, I’ve attempted the whole 'gains’ thing with Jared, didn’t work. I gotta fucked up thyroid.” I shoveled more food in my mouth as he continued to giggle. Once I scarfed down the rest of my food I was back on the couch shifting through channels. Jeffrey was rinsing off the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang, “Can you get that for me, sweet-pea?” he shouted to me. Anxiety instantly trembled through me, remembering the last time I’d answered the door to a home that wasn’t mine, "I’d rather not…“ Jeff appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dishrag in his hand, and gave me a sympathetic look, repeating his previous words again, "You’re safe here, honey,” before heading towards the front door. “Who is it?” He hollered, wiping his hands with the towel while looking through the peep hole.

"Little pig, little pig! Let. Me. In!“ came from the other side of the door before the door bell rang again in short sporadic increments.

Jeffrey barked out a loud laugh as he pulled the door open and in marched Norman, two bottles of what I could only assume was liquor in his hands. "Who’s up for some fucking day drinking?- Oh hey, Ms. Ackles, I didn’t know you’d be here.” Norman lifted on of the bottles in salutation to me. "Hey, Norman" I said, feeling my nervousness shift away. ’No one can get me here.’ “How’re you doin’, girl?” He said as I stood up to give him a hug. "Good, you?“ I responded as I watched him pull the bottles out of their paper bags. "Better now! Came to get day drunk with my buddy and he’s got a hot girl here too? Winner Winner.” He laughed. "She’s been here all weekend, douche bag, you’ve known this.“ Jeffrey joined us at the table with three glasses, shaking his head. "Yeah, but I figured I’d give y'all a little alone time, if you know what I mean” Norman wiggled his eyebrows at the both of us as he popped open the bottle of Crown, “M’ Lady?” He held the bottle up to me as a question. “It’s 12:30 in the afternoon, Norman.” I giggled and shook my head. "A double she says!“ he barked out in an Irish accent as he poured a healthy glass before sliding it towards me. I shook my head again as I picked up the tumbler. "Happy fucking New Year!” Norman shouted as he pushed a drink into Jeff’s hand and raised his own in the air, a little bit splashing on the table. "Watch the mahogany, dick.“ Jeff jabbed before tossing his glass back and finishing it in two huge gulps. I lifted my own glass and took a sip, and Norman and Jeff both stared at me like I had an arrow sticking from my head. "What?” I asked, confused as hell. “I thought you were a professional drinker?” Norman teased. "Norman…“ a halfhearted growl came from Jeff, I just quirked my eyebrow. "Okay, then.” I shook my head once more as I tilted my head back and downed all the amber liquid in my glass in one gulp, not even cringing at the burn. Both the men’s eyes went wide. “Professional drinker” I pointed out as I exhaled the taste. "I like 'er, Jeff. Let’s keep her around.“ Norman beamed as he threw his arms over both mine and Jeff’s shoulders, pulling us in towards him. "Y'all have no idea what ya’ll’re getting yourselves into” I chuckled back, alcohol already bringing the twang out in my voice. "You know what they say 'bout them Texas girls, boy…wooo-weee" Norman poured us all another double. “That’ we’re all emotionally unstable, bat shit crazy bitches with drinking problems?” I asked, barking out my own laugh as I raised the second glass to my mouth. Norman and Jeff both looked at me with shocked expressions, “What? It’s the fucking truth?” I took a deep swallow of the liquid. “I think I can handle it” Jeff grinned, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me near him as he downed his whiskey.

By 5 o'clock we had finished the first bottle and were all pretty intoxicated. "You comin’ to the next convention with us, honey?“ Norman asked as he wedged his way between Jeff and I on the sofa. "There’s a perfectly good chair right there man” Jeffrey grumbled, motioning to the arm chair with his glass. "This spot is better. Anyways, darlin’, so, you gonna come see us?“ He asked again. "I have this thing called a job…” I laughed, taking a sip from the glass of whiskey I had cut with a coke I found in the fridge. “And?” Norman deadpanned. “And I need to work. What is with ya’ll?” I shook my head. "You know Jeff here will make sure your bills get paid,“ Norman stated, nodding his head towards the other man who just gave me a 'well, I would’ face. I rolled my eyes, "I’m not a sugar baby.” “Never said you were.” It was Jeff who replied. I narrowed my eyes at both of them before getting off the couch to pour me a stiffer drink.

The night wore on, and by the 10 o'clock the second bottle was halfway done, I was laying on the couch drifting in and out of sleep as Norman and Jeffrey talked in the dining room. "Man, she’s something else,“ Norman chuckled lowly, eyeing my tiny frame snoring softly on the sofa. "I think this is the first time I’ve actually outdrank her.” Jeff rasped jokingly as he brought his glass to his lips to take a sip. “Everything going alright?” Norman asked with a sideways glance. "Yeah, brother, everything is great so far. I feel like a 14 year old kid, though.“ Jeffrey sighed as he placed his glass on the table, "I don’t wanna do anything to trigger her, ya know?” “I get it man, but you’re not like that anyway.” "Obviously, but I’ve seen how that shit can affect someone. The first time I tried to touch her after that piece of shit got to her at Jensens’, damn, man…she was so broken" He trailed off, blinking away the emotions of the memory. “Well that’s why she needs you to help fix her, dude. duh” “I just don’t wanna push the poor girl into feeling like she says she did with that asshole.” “Then don’t.” Norman said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jeffrey simply nodded his head and turned to stare at me.

The next morning I was at the airport, sporting my baggy sweat pants, a tank top with my unzipped Heartagram hoodie, and one of Jeffrey’s beanies I’d stolen. My hangover was in full affect, and I felt like I was going to die from a headache at any moment. "Whyyyyyy?“ I whined, stomping my foot as I leaned my head into Jeffrey’s sternum, waiting on my bags to be checked. "It’ll be alright, sweetpea, just have a drink on the plane and get some sleep.” He curled his long arms around my shoulders and kissed the top of my beanie-clad head. “Just what I need, more booze” I grumbled as my stomach turned. Once my bag was checked and the plane was ready for boarding, Jeffrey engulfed me into his arms and leaned down to smother me in a passionate kiss. His tounge danced around with mine, exploring my mouth with urgency as he tangled a hand in my hair. I couldnt stop the tears from springing to my eyes as his other hand gripped my hip and pulled me as close as I could be to him. "Shh, baby doll, its okay. Dont cry.“ He whispered as he wiped the few stray tears away from my cheeks. "I can’t help it, I’m such a fucking pussy.” I laughed, shaking my head against his chest. “Then what the hell am I?” He looked down at me, his own watery eyes about to spill over. “A bigger pussy,” I sniffled before giving him the last kiss I could before god knows how long.

part six: https://hornsbeforehalos.tumblr.com/post/163863683399/anytime-sweetheart-part-6

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan rpf #jdm fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction #jdm x oc #jdm x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x ofc #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan x oc #john winchester #john winchester fanfiction #actor rpf #norman reedus #norman reedus rpf

104 notes · View notes

polarwandersea · 7 years

Text

Proof of a right wing conspiracy. Gennifer Flowers.

This is going to be the first of a series of text posts that will offer information on several Clinton scandals. All of the quotes and information cited are coming from the sole source of the book: The Hunting of the President. The Ten-Year Campaign to Destroy Bill and Hillary Clinton by Joe Conason & Gene Lyons. I’m doing these text posts because this book offers a lot of insight on the scandals that I did not know at first and a lot of facts that are not put out there for people to know. This may be lengthy but it’s worth the read. That being said this first post is going to be on the Gennifer Flowers scandal.

Larry Nichols In order to Understand the Gennifer Flowers scandal it is important to introduce the man who was at the heart of this scandal and helped construct it. That man is Larry Nichols. Nichols had a grudge against Bill Clinton. This is due to the fact that in 1988, Nichols (who was from Conway Arkansas) had landed a new job as a marketing consultant for the Arkansas Development Finance Authority (ADFA), the state’s centralized public bonding agency. Now this is important, the ADFA was created by Clinton Legislation over the strong opposition of Stephens Inc (this will come into play for another scandal.) Nichols’s brief career at ADFA was ill-fated from the start. Several things happened: 1. When Betsey Wright, heard that Nichols had been hired by the agency’s director, and that he had invoked her name to get the job, she was furious. She had instructed personnel directors at other agencies who had asked about Nichols over the years that he was a dangerous con artist and political opportunist. 2. Nichols was preoccupied with issues more global than the marketing of Arkansas bonds. He started telling other ADFA employees that he was a CIA operative working on behalf of Nicaraguan contras. The CIA part was false but the claim wasn’t altogether false because he had gotten involved with the Collation of Peace Through Strength, an organization headed by the retired general John Singlaub-one of marine lieutenant’s colonel Oliver North’s secret money conduits in the Iran-Contra affair. What ended up happening was that “for five months, Nichols devoted himself to the contra cause while drawing a state salary, until the Associated Press discovered he had taken his politics to work. In September 1988 the AP reported that since coming to ADFA, Nichols had placed 642 long-distance telephone calls, at state expense, to Contra leaders and politicians who supported them. “ 3. Due to all this, Bill had to fire Nichols. “Although Clinton was traveling abroad on a trade mission when the phone-call story broke, Betsey Wright made sure he learned about it immediately: “I woke him up in Asia in the middle of the night and told him to fire Nichols.” The next day state officials forced Nichols to resign. This part is important: he left protesting his innocence and complaining about the “knee-jerk liberal reaction from Governor Clinton.”

Gennifer Flowers So what does Nichols have to do with the Flowers scandal? It seems as though everything. He had the motive and revenge seeking after being fired and humiliated. Fast facts: 1. Larry Nichols called a press conference at the Arkansas state capitol on October 1990. He handed out copies go a $3million libel lawsuit against Bill Clinton. He complained that he had been wrongly fired from his state job as a “scapegoat” in order to conceal the “the largest scandal ever perpetrated on the taxpayers of Arkansas.” Nichols accused Governor Clinton of having misused ADFA funds for “improper purposes.” Nichols also presented a list of 5 alleged Clinton mistresses upon whom those funds had supposedly been spent. 2. Among the women listed was Gennifer Flowers. This is important as well: Flowers turned out to be the only one of the five women who Nichols knew personally. The two had recorded advertising jingles together and still used the same booking agent. And there was one more interesting coincidence: In early October, about two weeks before Nichols’s press conference, Gennifer Flowers had called the governor’s office seeking help in finding a state job.

Now a bit more of a profile on Gennifer Flowers herself: Musicians and club owners who had worked with Flowrs described her as manipulative and dishonest. Her resume falsely proclaimed her to be graduate of a fashionable Dallas Prep school she’d never attended. It also listed a University of Arkansas nursing degree she’d never earned and membership in a sorority that had never heard of her. Her agent told the Democrat-Gazette that contrary to her claims, Flowers had never opened for comedian Rich Little. A brief gig on the Hee Haw television program had come to a bad end, the agent would later confirm, when Flowers simply vanished for a couple of weeks with a man she’s met in a Las Vegas casino-and then concocted a tale of having been kidnapped. She had never been Miss Teenage America. Even her “twin sister Genevieve” turned out to be purely a figment of Flower’s imagination.

Given all this so far it is easy to conclude that the Gennifer Flowers scandal was one incited by revenge for Nichols and fame for Flowers. But what about the tapes you may ask? There are holes in that “evidence” as well.

The Tapes: It is important to note that each of the four taped conversations between Bill Clinton and Flowers revolved around the same topics: Larry Nichol’s accusation’s and Flower’s supposed fear and loathing of the tabloid press.

Now here are some quotes between Bill and Flowers that poke more holes in her claims of having a twelve year affair:

“Gennifer,” he said, “It’s Bill Clinton.” His voice was muffled and for a longtime lover, oddly formal. Flowers remarked that he didn’t sound like himself. Did he have a cold? “Oh it’s just my….every year about this time I.. My sinuses go bananas.” Bill’s allergies affect him every spring and fall. His voice gets hoarse and his nose swells and reddens. Anyone intimate with him for more than a decade, as Flowers insisted she had been, might be expected to know that.

Once again she launched into a tale of woe. Parties unknown, she said, had broken into her apartment and rifled the place. “There wasn’t any sign of a break-in,” she explained,” but the drawers and things. There wasn’t anything missing that I can tell, but somebody had…” “Somebody had gone through your stuff?’ Bill asked. “But they didn’t steal anything. “ “No..I had jewelry here, and everything was still here.” This is possibly why Flowers never reported the any break-in to the Little Rock Police Department. Years later, she would pin the rap for this alleged burglary on Bill Clinton himself. It is also important to note that at no point on any of Flower’s tapes did Bill Clinton say anything that indicated a long-term sexual relationship with her. During one of their earlier talks, Clinton had told her about his joking response to Bill Simmons, a Little Rock AP reporter who had read him the bimbo list over the phone.” I said, ‘God Bill, I kinda hate to deny it. They’re all beautiful women.’ I told you a couple of years ago when I came to see you that I’d retired. Now I’m glad I have, because they (his Republican enemies) have scoured the waterfront. And they couldn’t find anything.” This quote you just read is the full quote. Often times on Youtube channels, they will cut the audio at the end of the ‘they’re all beautiful women part.’

Most probable relationship of Bill and Flowers affair: 1. The account that probably came closest to the truth was a column by the Democrat-Gazette’s John Brummet, a respected political analyst and frequent Clinton critic. His sources said Flowers had mentioned to friends fifteen years earlier that she was “having a fling with Clinton,” but “they say they heard nothing from her after 1979 about a relationship with Clinton and were surprised and skeptical upon reading her assertion in Star magazine of a twelve year affair that only ended in 1989. “They are also dubious about her assertion that she was in love with Clinton all those years, dreaming of marriage. They say that she had other relationships in Dallas and Little Rock during that time.. They speculate that she doesn’t like men generally and probably enjoys using them. Their instinctive reaction to the Star article is that her vivid, detailed account probably contains truth, exaggeration and fabrication, not necessarily in equal parts.”

2. Her ex-room mate Lauren Kirk told CNN corespondent Art Harris, that she believed Flowers had lied for revenge and money. “She just can’t accept the fact that he (Clinton) came, wiped himself off, zipped up and left.”

Concluding: If Bill and Flowers did have an affair it was the typical affair of a few sexual encounters but not a twelve year or loving relationship.

Aftermath: On the morning of the Clinton’s 60 minutes appearance, a very curious item appeared on the front page of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Larry Nichols announced that he was dropping the liberal suit trumpeted in the Star only a week earlier. “The feud is over,” he said. “I want to tell everybody what I did to try to destroy Governor Clinton.” In a one-page statement distributed to the Little Rock press, Nichols claimed that his only motive had been to avenge his wrongful firing four years earlier. “The media has made a circus out of this thing and now it’s gone way too far,” he wrote. “When the Star article first came out, several women called asking if I was willing to pay them to say they had an affair with Bill Clinton.”

Honorable mentions: 1.Gennifer Flowers once boasted about the many married men she’d seduce for fun and profit: “I usually throw them back. I don’t want to keep then. Let the wives have them back.” 2. The agreement between Flowers and the Star stipulated that no one would ever be allowed to examine her original tapes. 3. Flowers never produced a single photograph, valentine, or birthday card as evidence of her twelve-year affair with Clinton; no witness ever came forward who had seen them together. 4. Flowers had claimed that between 1978 and 1980, she and Bill had enjoyed many trysts in Little Rock’s Excelsior Hotel. The Excelsior Hotel wasn’t built until 1983.

If you read this all the way through thank you and I hoped it shed more light on the Flowers scandal as it did for me. This and my future posts for this text post series will be found under the hashtag:proofofarightwingconspiracy.

#proofofarightwingconspiracy #Bill Clinton #billary #hillary clinton #the clintons #politics

74 notes · View notes

gencottraux · 7 years

Text

I’ve spent the last few years deliberately redirecting myself to keep on the sunny side of life.

It’s not always easy, believe me. And I don’t always succeed.

For instance, last Sunday, driving to work, I was behind a terrible automobile accident on Highway 24. It had just happened; Bob called me as he had heard about it and wanted to make sure I was okay. I thought to myself, “Great, I am going to be late for work and we have a crowd waiting for the shelter to open to so they can adopt those 6 incredibly cute beagle puppies that just came up.” Maybe a silly thing to stress out about, but I don’t like being late for work. And people get emotional about wanting to adopt puppies, so the more hands on deck to handle to crowd, the better.

I settled in with my audiobook of American Gods (the mind of Neil Gaiman is a crazy place!), and sipped on my coffee, periodically moving forward a foot. Six lanes were being merged into one. People were getting fractious, honking and not letting other cars move in. It was 11:30 on a Sunday; most people were likely on their way to the mall or some such weekend pursuit.

I was doing my best not to look at the accident. Then the CHP officer directing traffic suddenly stopped the single file of cars with me up front, right next to the overturned car, to allow the clean-up crew to move some final wreckage from the one operational lane. I couldn’t help but see the car. Overturned, destroyed, horrifying. It didn’t look at all likely that anyone in the car would have survived. I started to shake and feel sick to my stomach. In the blink of an eye, lives were lost, destroyed, unalterably changed forever. It could happen to anyone.

I don’t know why it took me so long to connect this to the death of my father. Stephen Pierre Cottraux, Jr., aka Daddy, was killed in an automobile accident on November 15, 1962, not quite a full month after my first birthday. I have no memories of him. But I grew up hearing stories about him from my siblings, and wondering if he was watching us from heaven.

As first-born, Cathy remembers him the most. I recently asked her about the piano we had growing up, which led her to relate a Daddy memory:

“I have a few memories of Daddy playing [the piano], he was really good. They would have band practice at the house (in Macon) and he played the piano a lot of the time. I remember one night, I must’ve been 8, and he was playing and I was sitting next to him on the bench. I hugged him (I adored Daddy) and he smiled and said ‘Why don’t you go in the kitchen and tell your mama that I love her!’ That’s a memory I have carried my whole life.” She also remembers that Daddy liked to dance and he taught her to do the twist. Cathy was 9 when Daddy died.

Daddy with my sisters Cathy and Ellen, circa 1956.

Daddy, second from the left, and the jazz group he was in.

Here are some writing exercises I did a couple of years ago that say more:

Number one:

There are no photographs of Daddy on display in the house. Mom keeps one, with an old Valentine card from when they were high school, in the top drawer of her dresser, which I go through looking for jewelry to dress my dolls and stuffed cats with. We don’t ask about him; I’m not sure why but we don’t. But when Mom isn’t around Cathy and Ellen tell me and Steve stories of what they remember. I love to hear the ones about when I was born, of course.

“He said if they were all like you, he’d be happy to have a house full of kids,” says Cathy.

“He liked to feed you eggs at the breakfast table and say ‘Is it good?’; your first word was isitgood, all run together in one word.”

We watch the movie musical Carousel, and I am captivated by the idea of Daddy up in heaven watching down on us. Especially me. I could sit in the dark den with the late show on the television watching that movie night after night, warmed by the feeling that Daddy is with me.

Number Two:

Mom was only 26 when Daddy died, so we are used to her going out on dates. It’s been almost 10 years, after all. We even like some of the men. There is Joe Kellum, who owns Pizza by Candlelight. At first I love going to the restaurant, red and white plaid plastic tablecloths and red plastic water tumblers, candles in old Chianti bottles, the smell of garlic in the air. He has 2 kids, Mike and Angel. They hate me. They are the same ages as Ellen and Steve. They like to remind us that it’s their father who owns the restaurant and we are intruders. I begin to dislike them and the restaurant and their father.

The one we do like plays the guitar and sings the Mountain Dew song. We don’t drink Mountain Dew, but it’s still fun. We all crowd around him in the living room and ask him to sing it again and again. He quits coming to the house.

I love to read stories about widowed mothers with broods of children, like The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. In these stories, the mother struggles, but dating and men don’t come into the stories and everyone cherishes the memories of dear old dad. The kids do what they can to take care of the mother as the years go by. That’s what we will do.

The only picture I have of me with Daddy, 1961.

I spent the rest of Sunday in a funk, triggered by the car accident into thoughts of how lives change in split seconds, people leave for work and don’t come home again. Families are left behind. Promising lives are cut short. Perhaps the driver had been distracted. Perhaps the driver had swerved out of the way of something, a deer or a piece of debris in the road. Maybe the driver nodded off to sleep. I don’t know.

And then I got mad at the fractious drivers of the other cars, honking and impatient. Put things in perspective, people! So you’ll be a little late for wherever you were headed. At least it wasn’t you and your car turned over in the road. Your life goes on. Appreciate that. And our hearts should go out to the survivors.

My father was so young, and he left behind an even younger wife and 4 small children. In the blink of an eye.

Mom and Daddy, circa 1953.

Of course, good things can happen in the blink of an eye. Falling in love when you look a certain someone in the eye. Making a new friend who will mean the world to you. A split second decision that will change your life for the better even though it seems crazy (like signing up for online dating even though you swore you wouldn’t, leading to life with Bob). Meeting a beagle puppy and knowing she’s the one.

Be open to the special moments, but be careful out there. Don’t drive distracted. Seriously. That one quick text could be all it takes to end it all for someone, maybe yourself.

The beagle puppies all found homes that day. I snapped out of my funk eventually. But I’ll aways wonder how my life would have been different if my father hadn’t driven away never to come back.

I love you and miss you, Daddy.

In the Blink of an Eye (or, thinking about the father I never knew) I've spent the last few years deliberately redirecting myself to keep on the sunny side of life.

#Carousel #driving distracted #in the blink of an eye #keep on the sunny side of life #Stephen Pierre Cottraux Jr.#The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew #traffic accidents

0 notes

boogiewrites · 6 years

Text

Choking On Sapphire Pt. 6

Title & Song: Stop The World

Characters: Alfie Solomons x OFC

Word Count: 4300+

Summary: Genevieve Durand is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. When she moves to London for a new chapter in her life, she finds herself very interested in the friends the father of her godson has found himself in business with. But where does the line go between personal and professional?

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter 5 song is Stop The World Because I Want To Get Off With You by Arctic Monkeys. All text in italics is spoken in French.

Part 1: Thieves & Kings.- Pt. 2 Conquest - Pt. 3 Nail In My Coffin - Pt. 4 - 60 Feet Tall Pt. 5 I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor Pt. 7 Making A Fool Of You

My Masterlist.

Warnings: Language. Threats of Violence.

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird

You're perched on a stair at the bottom of the red carpeted staircase, leaning on the huge marble columns with matching decorative banisters. The stairs lead up to a grand bar, spanning the width of the staircase, impressively carved from stone. You were correct in your assumption the place would have the smell of money in the air tonight.

The inside of the grand London hotel, surrounded by the lit monstrous exterior, was warm with the heat of the bodies within it. The heat from the day still lingering in the air within the stone walls. Everything was covered in filigree, velvet, and elaborate embroidery. You looked around, seeing the grand paintings moved out onto massive easels and podiums, littered across the grand rooms each with its own clusters of people dressed in some of their best. You floated with the tide of moving bodies around the paintings, speaking to the students and artists of the pieces, they were much more interesting than most of the dinosaurs in the room. They were here to show off their money and pretend to be deep intellectuals. You hear their musing through their cloud of intoxication with their elementary understanding of color theory. You'd bought a lovely painting of cherry blossoms from a sweet girl that had made you ache for Paris this time of year.

You’ve finished a general sweep of the place, having gotten there a bit early purposely to do such a thing. You'd not been in this building before and you liked to know your entry and exit options if you were to be confined for the evening. You'd been approached by older gentlemen, as you almost always were at these sorts of events. A woman alone at such things was a beacon, telling them you were single or a whore and it didn't matter which. You'd politely ducked away and hidden to avoid their advances before returning to a high spot to watch for the arrival of Mr. Solomons. Your arms are crossed under your chest, hip jutted out on the stairs, your eyes continuously scanning the large room.

He sees you before you see him, as you'd had to make a circle around the staircase to avoid another man. You've perched again on the bottom of the stairs, peering far out to see him coming in, you weren't looking among the faces already in the crowd and noticing your attention was elsewhere, he gets to take a long look at you uninterrupted.

You didn't compare to anyone else in the entire room. Your dark blue floor-length gown shimmered in the light. He thought the sequins made the curves of your body reflect like the moon off the sea at night. The low V neckline mirrored in cut by the back, showed your chest shamelesly, your pale skin glowing from the oils you use, your arms exposed. The night chill hits your bare skin and you shiver, pulling tighter against you the long black fur you're wearing draped down your back and across your forearms. The sun falling and the rise of the night makes the dimmed light of the room reflective off your large sapphire and diamond necklace. Your teardrop shaped diamond earrings, to match the shape of the stones on your necklace, are nestled into your dark curled hair, falling down the center of your back and framing your face. You're the only woman in the room in your age group without the short haircut that was popular among your peers. You'd always found great pride and pleasure in your femininity and chose not to change what you already liked about yourself and your style as the trends changed, merely adopting the bits you liked as you knew they'd be out by next season anyway. Your eyes lined with makeup, big and dark connect with his as he gets closer. Your red lips smile in acknowledgment as you slink down the few stairs the floor to greet him.

His hat immediately created an intimidating silhouette as his large shoulders made people part to let him through. His cane was just as elevated as his choice in jewelry. His rings, bracelets, necklaces, and cuff links all attracted your eyes like a magpie. You see the ring you gave him, the solid square shape of it easily recognizable to you. You choose not to mention it, but it does look as attractive on him as you thought it would. His top button on his shirt, undone in what you felt was a rebellious gesture to the black tie code of dress. His layers of necklaces settled in his chest hair just visible at the base of the hollow of his throat. Without his usual large coat you'd seen him in, covering his form, you got the see the breadth of him, impressive as he gets close enough for the deep hue of your dress to darken his blue eyes.

"Mr. Solomons." you say with a playful, welcoming tone, holding out your hand.

"Miss Durand." he says with the same underplayed excitement in his voice, his noticeably just groomed beard presses with his lips against your hand. "I don't think you're supposed to try 'n upstage the art, Genevieve but here you are." he grins and you roll your eyes but a laugh bubbles out of you from between smiling lips. You move in closer to him to speak more privately.

"You and your canny words, Alfie." you taunt with a warm soft tone, resting your fingers on the smooth fabric of his suit jacket for a fleeting moment. "I have to say that you look both powerful and expensive tonight," you say with a raised eyebrow, shrugging your shoulders to fluff up the fur around your shoulders in a playful gesture, swatting the end of the fur at his jacket. A reserved, closed mouth smile with big bright eyes and raised brows greet you as you pester him. "If there are two aesthetics I enjoy more I'm afraid I have not learned of them yet." you grin, your nose scrunching up with it to show your sincerity but also put him at ease with your typical level of affection. He tips his hat at you in acknowledgment. He looks around the room behind you as his tongue rolls across his teeth, as he lets out a low rolling laugh. His eyes return to you, the corners crinkled in a genuine smile down at you.

"I would say the very same of you tonight." he leans in slightly, his eyes away from yours.

"You like it, Alfie? I got it from Paris." you say, opening the length of fur in your arms to show him the full front of the gown. You give a slight back and forth with your shoulders as you watch him suppress that masculine, predatory look that sat behind his eyes.

"The blue. It suits you, dunnit?" his lower lip partially reveals his bottom row of teeth as he drags out his last words as if he were still considering his opinion. His expression shifts into a much lighter message, he moves his hands with is words. "You look like a million pounds, ya do." his fingers run over his trimmed beard as he nods, enjoying the invitation to look at you although he's quick to not overstay his welcome as he changes the subject. "I hope you've not been waiting too long for me to arrive." he says, leaning away, his eyes still on the necklace before he breaks the connection to gaze over the crowd as he stands back up straight. His face falls into that raised brow visual stalking expression when he was surveying a space.

"I haven't." you shake your head, "I've bought one painting and three gentlemen have approached me since I've been here so I suppose I've not been here that long." you say with a low chuckle.

"Only three? With you looking like that I'm surprised to see you not turning down proposals at this point in the evening." his straightens his posture, his voice a bit gruffer and teasing, inflecting in a sarcastic way as his ringed fingers hold the lapel of his coat.

"The night is still very young though, isn't it?" you kid, your chin moving as you speak.

"It is young, Genevieve, but let's not keep ya out too late now. Shall we try to enjoy ourselves before we shake these drunken, pompous wigs for their secrets?" he holds his arm out to you and you happily accept it, locking your eyes with his as you hide the girlish, dimpled smirk that threatened to stay on your face. You were entirely too excited to be out tonight back into the plush, lavish lifestyle people who attended these things lived. You had this entertaining gentleman on your arm for the night, talking of art and your fondness of it. You shared laughs that traveled all the way up to your eyes, even if you didn't look into each others during these moments because you were trying to repress your laughter and not build and continue it. Which only made you both want to not only laugh more but louder against the expected politeness from you at these sorts of events.

He picked a more secluded spot to sit together towards the back of the crowd for a presentation from one of the schools the funds benefited. Your legs are crossed towards him at the knee, your elbow on the arm of your red velvet and gold chair, your arms touching from his placement on his chair arm, next to yours, not feeling awkward now due to being on it on all night up to this point in the evening.

You sit together, close but not too close. You speak in a soft voice, talking about how you couldn't believe how one of the young artists had used a technique you'd never heard of to compose his landscapes, but you see that he's fallen still, his head cheated forward but his attention not in that same direction. Upon closer inspection you see him chewing his cheek, his eyes in full focus on the sapphires around your neck.

"Here," you mumble, moving your arms up to unclasp the heavy necklace."Would you like to see it?" you mock rhetorically, presenting it to him in your hands.

"Yes, please." his words polite but his voice dark, taking it delicately into one hand, pulling a loupe out from his coat and you want to laugh at the fact that he just happened to have the magnifying eyepiece in his pocket if you hadn't found it so endearing in it's own obsessive way.

"You've been eyeballing it all evening, just don't drool on it, please." you instruct, rubbing the place where the stones sat on your skin.

"She's beautiful," he says quietly but enthusiastically. "I didn't think it could look more so, anywhere but around your neck but I find myself disagreeing upon this closer inspection." he says, almost mumbling to himself. If you weren't leaning so close you might've missed a few words. He was clearly having a moment with this piece and you didn't blame him in the least. It was one of your favorites.

"Very complimentary of you," you say with sarcasm. "I spent a long time looking for such clarity in gems in such a grand necklace." you express fondly, seeing the teardrop-shaped gems slip over his fingers like stone tears as he fusses with it.

"Time well spent." he says in a groan of jealousy, placing the eyepiece back into his pocket and so effortlessly moving, placing the piece back around your neck and clasping it for you. In the moments his fingers manipulated the clasp, his arms steady on your shoulders, you can't help but notice how he doesn't smell of rum tonight but of something masculine.

"Wonderful taste in jewels tonight, Genevieve." he says in a polite toned, gruff voice. He's quiet for a moment, his hand hovers over yours, he taps your finger that wears the simple but sizable sapphire ring. "This one here would assure a body sank right to the bottom of the canal, yeah?" You let out a low huff of a laugh.

"Yes and she's a personal favorite of mine so don't suggest she'd be on any sort of hand that would let itself end up in the bottom of the canal." you hold it out, your arm outstretched, shifting your hand to see the facets shine, admiring the ring.

"I'd never suggest such a thing about her. Merely an observation." he grins and sits back in his chair. "Now, I'll let ya when someone of interest comes in, yeah?" he says softly, his head tilting towards yours for the duration of his words. He looks around the room, his brow furrowed. You nod in response, glancing over at him in acknowledgment.

"I've only recognized one person here tonight." you whisper.

"You rubbin' with some big shoulders if you're friendly with these types."

"The woman in the mauve dress, red hair." you point with your foot, hidden from view from everyone but him. "I met her groundskeeper at a farmers market and ended up helping her produce business with some of my bees." you explain.

"It's funny how those bees have been takin' you all sorts of places, innit? Those bees become more and more interesting everytime you talk about 'em" he looks over the couple you're referring to.

"That's because they are interesting, Alfie." you say obviously. The corner of his mouth hidden from you pulls back at your no-nonsense tone with him. He continues looking around the room, his hand rubbing his beard, he was in thought. He's pulled out of it as he feels the soft skin your hand against his cheek as you whisper into his ear. "Do you know the man with the lavender tie? With the salt and pepper hair?" you try to say as quietly as you can while still being heard. He swallows and clears his throat, shifting in his seat and subtlely motioning in the direction of the man. You see you'd made him react from your touch. Although it had been subconscious at the time, you now feel the tiny thrill of the acknowledgment from him, although unintentionally so, that your touch could affect him. The troublemaker inside you delights. You hurried to shut her up.

"I've done business with him before, yeah." his voice gravely, his mouth frowning slightly.

"That did not end well, I will assume." you say smugly. Alfie side eyes you, his lips pursed. "Although I couldn't tell which of you tried to turn on the other because I can see he has some dark tendencies."

"You can see darkness in people, can ya?" he says quietly, his voice with less teasing than you'd expect to come from him.

"When someone wears it so proudly, yes." you could've gone over how you could tell he was a powerful man who did bad things by his body language and those around him. Although there was something about his hooded almost white blue eyes that had made your insides twitch with a warning when they'd glanced over yours. Perhaps it was the way his eyes fucked every woman he looked at, with no light behind his eyes on the subject.

"And what about the drunken Lord near the front in the blue and gold?"

"I would suggest he learn how to hide how he's fucking his wife's..." you tilt your head and narrow your eyes. "Cousin? Sister? Hmm." you hum to yourself in thought. He chuckles and pats your arm, telling you without words that you were correct.

"Some of these poor women," you sigh, shaking your head. "I wonder how many know they're husbands prefer their nights within the secrecy of horse stalls with stable boys to their own feather beds with their affection starved wives." you pout your lips as you shrug your shoulders. The genuine enough hurt in your voice strikes him as you hadn't been one to show much sympathy to these other people so far tonight.

"You are impressive, Genevieve, ya know that?" Alfie lets out a small amused sound, he knocks your arm with his elbow. You look at him with wide-eyed innocence and a soft face, one it might bother him to scold publicly. He looks down at you in a mischievous way. "Now there's no way you can know those sorts of things now, can ya?" he says with a touch of grit and taunt. "Even if your tales are very entertaining, yeah? Ya somehow manage to be poignant yet humourous." his words complimenting you but sounding scolding.

"I’ve seen some wild things in my life, Mr. Solomons. Believe me when I soberly muse on these sorts of subjects." you deepen your voice, your eyes still matched with his. "You'd be smart to place a little more faith in my words." you retort, your inflection up at the end, a playful warning.

"Well I did invite you here tonight to do exactly that now, didn't I?" he says, thinking he's made your criticism look incorrect.

"Yes and I wasn't implying you weren't smart." you say, another casual and obvious statement from you as your lips warp into a quirky smile, showing your hand and letting him know you did not misspeak. The speaker rises to the podium and begins. As names are called, he whispers in your ear bits of information about them and what he'd like to know about them.

You switched into work mode, your face back to a stoic neutral pose as you walk on his arm across a ballroom after the presentation. You mostly smiled politely and nodded, as the majority of questions were addressed to Alfie, but you watched and listened, people showing you their true intentions. You were given the distinct advantage of being the only sober two in all the conversations you had. You've been giving Alfie his money's worth work wise as this continued for what felt like hours. Having to giggle and touch your chest in flattery every time a wife interrogated you after being shooed away to let the boys talk, suggesting how you and Alfie looked so complimentary to each other. You hadn't appreciated the beauty and the beast comparison one gentleman made but you weren't really in the position to retort.

"Not that I'm not enjoying your company, Mr. Solomons. But I'm finding myself tired at this point in the night already due to the combination of sobriety and these people's painful personalities." you rub two fingers on one of your temples, and he pats your forearm. "After tonight I am reminded why I left Paris and the people in it behind." you roll your eyes before you wiggle and stretch your face to invigorate yourself.

"If I could find the man I wanted you to meet, as he's alluded us since the presentation, we could end this night before we both go cross-eyed from having to interact with these bloated fucks, yeah?" he motions with his hand, not lowering his voice and you lower your head to hide your face against his jacket arm, not touching it but grazing it as you hid a laugh at his words. He sees your shoulders shake and he pretends he doesn't know that the memory how your upper lip raises to show your front two teeth when he makes you unexpectedly laugh with his crass words would be making its way into his thoughts at a later date.

"I find relief in knowing you are as miserable as I am." you whisper in a reassuring tone. "Who are we looking for? If I know what I'm looking for I can find him." you suggest politely.

"'Ol lavender tie." he says low, voice groaning a bit as his neck stretched to look past the room you were in and into another. Your nose scrunches at the news.

"The one I didn't like. Wonderful." you say sarcastically.

"Well it's never all fun and games, is it?" he says obviously. You purse your lips together and scan the room as he plants you both by the bar. Eventually, the man comes to you.

The closer he gets the more uneasy you get. You try to charge yourself up to protect yourself against how this guy tried to throw his bad energy around. You could tell immediately these two men were only being civilized because they were in public.

The man manages to disrespect you with a look without even opening his mouth. You know Alfie feels your body stiffen against him in your attempt to ground yourself and work through this without emotion.

You're telling the man partial and incorrect information of your farm at his adamant request.

"And you feel safe out there? Little sweet thing like you all alone out there in the wilderness?" he lights a cigarette as he speaks.

"I've been given no reason to feel unsafe so far. I do take precautions, of course, living with the woods creatures so closely with civilization, I must." you state, your face purely informative in expression.

"Oh, there are animals in the city that you have to protect yourself against too, darling." he exhales smoke towards you, glancing between the two of you before settling back on you.

"Yeah, I seem to have introduced her to one." Alfie snarks, his back straight, shoulder and feet planted wide, chin up in defiance. You quickly interject.

"Men mustn't lower themselves to act like unevolved beasts, mustn't they?" you state with more insistence, looking to Alfie out of the corner of your eye before returning them to the other man, who was returning Alfie's glare, while his fingers fuss over the box of matches in his hand.

"That's where you're wrong, honey, some men MUST." he says, looking you over predatorily before snarling his lips while he brought the cigarette up to them while doing everything but snorting and stomping his feet to try and assert his rather pitiful need to show dominance with fire in his eyes.

You're waiting for your car, you pull your fur piece over your shoulders as the wet night air hits your bare skin. It wasn't just the dropping temperature that was making you feel chilled and unusually jittery. Alfie is looking at his pocket watch, he mumbles something about it being late, you only half listen as you're distracted by the man with the eerie eyes.

"Alfie..." you say softly as your car pulls up and he moves you towards it with his arm hovering over your back. He opens your door for you and you turn to him. The surprise in his face isn't hidden, even on the dimly lit sidewalk as you take one of his hands into yours. "This will sound very cheeky of me and it isn't meant to be," you say with your eyebrows raised. "But if you find yourself in need of a place that no one would look for you, I offer you space at my home to ride out the storm I feel coming for you." you insist, even using a weaker tone to see if you could appeal to his masculine energy.

"Genevieve." he says with a sigh, his head lowering, his eyes disappearing under the shadow of his hat brim.

"I know you think my concern to be based in exaggeration but I do feel like that man intends to do you grievous harm." you say, leaning in, looking up at him, he raises his other hand to cover yours, now rested against his chest.

"It's part of the job, you know this, yeah?" he tries to comfort you with a dismissal. "Your kind but displaced worry is appreciated but not necessary." he says with a slightly scolding tone. He uses your grip on his hand to turn you to the car, you hesitantly get in with a heavy sigh you know he hears.

"I told you to put faith in my words, Alfie." you say, your eyes wide, your face serious. The moon hits your eyes, there was no doubt to the truth of your words to be seen. He wishes he didn't find your insistent nature on your correctness to be such an endearing trait at this moment. You, armed with nothing but a gut feeling, telling him he was wrong so certainly.

"And I do, Genevieve, I do, yeah?" he says in a hushed voice. "But I can take care of myself and your work is over here. Go home, forget about me as you should until you find a purpose for me again." he gives you a charming smile, under normal circumstances, it would ease your nerves as was the intention of the gesture. "Goodnight, Miss Durand." he says definitively, letting you know the conversation was over.

Your face frowns and you look at him seriously. "Let Claire know which flowers I should send to your funeral, Mr. Solomons." you say, feeling the lack of a personable nature in the use of your last names from him. You shut the door and turn your face to the front windshield, not looking back to him before your driver pulls away. He stands there, his head shuddering back and forth his eyes blinking quickly at your words. As usual, he finds himself affected by your parting words.

Alfie groans and lets his body sink into the large back seat of his car. His sciatica thankful for the end of the night, but not so much the rest of him. He's looking out the window, the way the streetlights reflect through the glass remind him of how your gemstones would catch the light whenever he'd look away from you, always shining in his peripheral vision. His mind was turning your words over and over in his head, his hand gripped the handle of his cane and he sighs loudly.

"Ishmael? Take me to the warehouse instead of the house for the night, yeah?"

"Of course." he responds with a subtle shrug.

He resituates himself in the seat, brow drawn down tightly, lips pushed in together tightly. He found himself wishing your words hadn't been proven true and trustworthy up to this juncture. He found himself hoping you were wrong, but his own intuition was telling him you weren't.

Pt. 7 Making A Fool Of You

174 notes · View notes